Breaking Point
by RainyDaysAndBlueJays
Summary: Danny Fenton is having problems. As the resident ghost child of Amity Park, he has the responsibility of protecting the town from every evil ghost that comes its way. And it's never been a problem; until now. An ominous warning from Clockwork sets into motion a chain of events that threatens not only Amity Park, but the world. And the key to solving the problem? Sam Manson. DxS
1. Prologue: Begin

**Prologue: Begin**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.**

**Dedication: To smiles and laughter!**

The lab that resided in the basement of Fenton Works was mostly silent that evening. The only sounds permeating the space were the occasional chatter of some rodent and the slight clatter that the glass beakers made when they hit together. All was dark and everything was still. A slight gust blew through the room, causing some of the diagrams on the walls to flutter.

The only source of light came from the Ecto-Filtrator, located in the very far left corner of the room. It cast an eerie glow on the objects closest to it and shrouded everything else in a black mystery. The dial moved slowly from green to yellow. Next it would move into the red region and it would then be time to change the battery, lest the whole home explode.

The wind gave nothing away. It moved with very little force, hardly noticeable at all unless you looked for it. It licked at the diagrams and beakers and rattled the high-tech ghost equipment. It did nothing to penetrate the hard steel door of the Ghost Portal, though, and made no effort to slip through the cracks and enter the Ghost Zone.

It was then that the noise came; softly at first, like a dull hum. Slowly it rose on volume and pitch, growing so loud that the glass beakers shattered and fell to the floor in little glass shards. The calm was shattered as the wind, at first so docile, picked up speed. It reached a velocity to violent that the tables and chairs began to shake. A few swivel chairs began skating across the room on their own accord and others toppled over, creating a loud crash that reverberated around the room.

Tabled fell and all of the precious lab equipment went with them. Hundreds of dollars in equipment caved in with the tables and crashed to the floor. Valuable pieces of plastic and computer technology skirted across the ground, showering the already glassy floor with more sharp materials.

Still the pitch grew. Soon, it was so loud that the walls began to shake and rumble. A large crack traveled through the floor, opening up a crevice so deep that you couldn't see the bottom. What hadn't fallen yet soon began to and the ceiling came with it. Large shards of rock and plaster hit the ground with so much force that the very foundation of the house began to falter. The large dome on top of the home fell with a mighty roar, crushing anything that hadn't been already.

From not so far away, then Fentons, along with a Foley and a Manson, watched with horror-stricken faces as the place that they'd all held dear for so long crumbled to the ground. One of them raced forward, no one could tell who in all the commotion, and dived into the rubble, searching for something that remained unknown.

The last image anyone saw of that person was his terrified eyes and the whole house came down on him. His blood spilled and lined the sidewalk, flowing to the road and pooling at their feet. No one screamed and no one cried.

They'd already seen it coming.

Clockwork, Master of All Time, watched as this image flittered across his screens and then vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. His ever-changing face remained stoic and calculating. Such a vision was no surprise, as he knew what the future held and had expected it for some time.

The silence that followed afterwards was cold and hollow. None of the Observers said a thing, and neither did Clockwork. The room was full with the dread and despair that held the hearts of the people in it. While they were typically impassionate creatures, the Observers looked on with something akin to sorrow.

It was minutes, maybe hours before anyone spoke.

"So, this is it." One Observer stated. There was no need for question. If it had shown up in Clockwork's mirror, than it would most surely come to be true.

The spirit, now in the form of a baby, nodded his head. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

There was more silence, until…

"Can this future not be changed?" One of the other Observers asked. "Is there no other option?"

Clockwork flickered into a man. His unlined face was grim. "Yes, but only one way."

The lead Observer seemed to think this over. He was quiet for several minutes, his hands wringing at his sides. As an Observer he knew. He knew the laws that he was meant to live by, and, strict as they may be, they had to be followed. But there was clearly not much harm in asking. It wasn't as if the child would ever find out.

"How?"

His two counterparts turned to face him, but the lead Observer gave away no emotion. His one eye trained on the baby Clockwork as he waved his staff through the air.

There was absolute reverent silence as the Master of All Time spoke. "He must first lose what he cares about the most." The image in the mirror changed to that of a girl. She was beautiful with large amethyst eyes and porcelin skin. Then she smiled and her whole face brightened.

Clockwork continued on as if nothing had changed. "He must first lose…Sam Manson."

**I know that this is short for a chapter, but it's only a prolgue. It may not make very much sense now, but that's kinda the point. All will be revealed eventually.**

**Please review.**

**The first chapter should be up tomorrow.**

**Next Chapter: Sturdy  
**


	2. Sturdy

**Chapter 1: Sturdy**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.**

**Dedication: To my wonderful sister, for all that you do.**

_Casper High School_

_English Hallway_

_8:05 AM_

"I'm trying to tell you man, it's not a good idea." Tucker Foley, resident techno-geek of Casper High, was roughly shoving his books into his locker, looking desperately from the busy hallway to his friend who stood beside him, stubbornly crossing his arms.

The halls were abuzz that morning. Students flocked from the classrooms and the main entrance, joining their specific cliques and chatting about the latest gossip. Teachers scanned the halls, each with a watchful eye, trying desperately to locate some misbehaving student so they'd have something to do before class started. The sound of trumpets and drums reverberated from down the hall, no doubt that the band was taking an early practice for the big game tomorrow.

Danny Fenton, also known as Danny Phantom, didn't seem to take any notice to this, just like he missed the hateful eyes that his best friend was sending his way. He was lost in the action of balancing his books in one hand and his drink can in another. His mouth was open just a bit, and his tongue grazing his lip in concentration.

"And what's not so good about it?" The boy asked, jumping and wincing as he lost grip on his books and they went tumbling to the floor with a loud crash. Many students saw this, pointed, and began to laugh. Danny turned slightly red.

Tucker ignored the laughter and pointing, taking the needed books into his arms and slamming his locker door closed. "More like what's so wrong about it. It's a stupid idea, Danny, and if Sam was here, she'd agree."

Danny flashed a glare at his friend before bending down and gathering his books back into his hand, watching carefully to make sure that he didn't spill his soda. "No, she wouldn't, Tuck. She'd side with me."

Tucker glared right back and the two started down the hall and to their first period class, English II with Mr. Lancer. "What makes you think that?"

"She always does." Danny said matter-of-factly, slipping in between two groups of freshmen. "And besides, I don't see the problem in me taking just a little solo detour around the Ghost Zone this afternoon while you two have detention."

The techno-geek halted suddenly, turning to face his friend. "Okay, that detention was your fault and you know it. We can't all just phase through the floor like you, just like we can't all fly around the city and shoot laser beams out of our eyes!"

"I can't shoot laser beams out of my eyes." Danny said confusedly.

Tucker scowled. "So not the point, man." He took and deep breath and resumed his pace. "I'm just saying that it's your fault we're stuck after school in detention with Mr. Lancer and you aren't. And it's really not a good idea for you to go into the Ghost Zone all alone with no way of contacting us."

Danny huffed and turned into the halfway crowded classroom. Most of the students were still out in the halls, roaming around and talking to their friends. "I wouldn't be alone." Then he frowned. "Well, technically I would, but if you think about all those allies I have in the Ghost Zone, it's not so bad."

"What's not so bad?" Spoke up a melancholy voice from behind them.

Both boys turned to see Samantha Manson, Goth extraordinaire. She was in her usual outfit, plaid skirt and black belly shirt. Her hair was pulled up and her make-up was applied with a careful hand. Her books seemed to weigh down her hands, and her back pack was conspicuously absent from her shoulders.

"Where's your back pack?" Danny asked, quickly taking the books from her hands and walking them over to her desk.

The Goth's demeanor immediately darkened, his happy face turning angry and her smirk becoming a big frown. "You don't want to know."

The solemnity and despair in her usually happy tone caught Tucker's attention. He sidled up beside her, tossing an arm over her shoulder. "And what had made our happy Sam into a sad one?"

Sam turned to him and scowled, shrugging out of his grasp. She backed up slightly and boosted herself up on her desk, knocking Danny off. He gave her a look but she only smiled. "My aunt and uncle are in town with their little prissy daughter." Sam pulled a face.

"Daughter?" Tucker brightened instantly, the question in his eyes replaced with a childish desire. "What does she look like? How old is she? What type of guy—"

Danny slapped a hand over Tucker's mouth, smiling sheepishly at Sam. "Ignoring him…what's so bad about that? And what does that have to do with your back pack?"

Sam laughed as Tucker twisted out of Danny's hold, glaring furiously and wiping his hand over his mouth. "Well, you see, I haven't actually seen them since I was little. My parents have, but you know how they are: always wanting such a nice and kind daughter. Anyway, because of that my mom and dad failed to mention my…interests; namely me being Goth.

"So, they told me that if I act like a good daughter and dressed like I should, at least while I'm at home, while their here then I'll get a whole two months of no knit-picking about this and that." Sam made little motions in the air with her hands.

"And this means, no spider back pack?" Danny asked slowly, trying to make the connection.

Sam nodded. "Spiders are scary, Danny, in case you haven't noticed. Well, they are to most people."

"But not us ghost fighters!" Tucker piped up from her perch on his desk. "We aren't scared of nothing!"

"It's anything, Tucker." Sam corrected, scooting off of her desk and into her chair. "We aren't scared of anything."

More students began to file into the classroom, taking their seats beside their friends and opening up their books, grabbing their homework from their bags. Most began to switch off papers, comparing answers or copying from their friends because they hadn't done theirs.

Sam looked on with a watchful and exasperated gaze. As students traded their papers and typed one or two last text messages to their friends in other rooms, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. Everything seemed in place; the jocks in the very back, the geeks in the front rows, and she along with her friends in the middle one. Mr. Lancer would waltz in any moment like he always did and begin to go over the last nights homework with that hopeful feeling that someone actually cared.

Sam had never been a very intuitive person. She relied on facts and evidence to help her come by her conclusions, not gossip and rumors; and most certainly not gut feelings. But when she'd woken up that morning, to the bright glare of her Aunt Gloria's white teeth, she'd had a feeling in the pit of her stomach, something that she'd hoped to shake off, but hadn't been able to.

And then when she'd walked in on Tucker and Danny talking about something that "wasn't so bad" even though it probably was, she'd felt that feeling again, that churning in her stomach that told her something bad was going on or would soon happen. She was tempted to ask them what hadn't been so bad but they were off in their own conversation, something about video games.

It was then that Mr. Lancer walked in, books and test papers in hand. As he made his way to the front of the classroom, the noise began to die down. Students took their seats, cell phones were put safely into purses of pockets, and all talking ceased. Sam slumped down lower in her chair, pulling out her note pad and a pencil to write with, and turned her focus to her board as Mr. Lancer began to speak.

"Now, about last night's homework." Mr. Lancer began, pulling some papers from a three-ring binder. "I trust that you all read to chapter four in _Lord of the Flies_ and answered…"

Lunch came relatively quickly that day. As soon as the fourth period bell chimed throughout the hallways, students rushed from the classrooms, to their lockers, and back into the cafeteria, most likely hoping to get a spot at the front of the line. The menu posted on the entrance door to the building said that today's main course was Chicken Noodle Soup, which actually tasted pretty good.

Sam, Danny, and Tucker were some of the lucky few who got their early enough to grab the food while it was still warm. Sam, of course, had passed up the soup in favor of an apple salad that she'd brought from home that day. Tucker and Danny didn't care in the least bit, and they dug into their food with their usual fervor as soon as their butts hit the chair.

Dash Baxter was absent that day, an unusual circumstance, and so the lunch room had a happier, lighter feeling. Most of the geeks and nerds still chose tables are far away from the A-List as possible, most likely from habit; and from the revelation that the number one bully would surely be back the next day. The popular kids still sent mean looks at everyone besides their friends, but no one acted without Dash Baxter's approval.

Sam took a bite of her salad, chewing thoughtfully. She was again tempted to ask what Danny and Tucker had been talking about earlier, but wasn't sure if it was worth it. It couldn't be anything too bad or dangerous because she and Tucker had detention that afternoon, and Danny would never do anything stupid without them.

Still, her curious nature got the best of her and after five minutes of small talk, she cracked. "So, what were you two talking about this morning?"

Both boys turned to face her, turned to face each other, and then both began speaking very rapidly at the same time.

"Danny has this dumb—"

"It isn't dumb! Tucker just—"

"It is dumb! Suicide even! Sam, this idea is so—"

""Don't listen to Tucker. He's high off—"

"Oh, now _I'm _high? What about you? I'm not the one with the stupid idea to—"

"Don't even say it, Tucker! You'll make everything seem worse than it is!"

"It _is_!"

"Cut it _out_!" Sam, who was already irritated on account of the verbal onslaught that he Aunt Gloria had released on her this morning, shouted loudly, attracting many heads who turned in their direction. Donny seemed embarrassed. Tucker didn't. "Why don't you tell me what's going on; one at a time. And Danny first, because this was apparently his idea."

"Hey!"

"Can it, Tucker!"

It took a few seconds for the irritation to die down, and just a few seconds longer than that for Tucker and Sam to stop glaring at each other. Once everything had calmed down, Danny spoke, his hand traveling to the back which he rubbed nervously. "Well, since you and Tucker are stuck in detention this afternoon—"

"On account of you!"

"Shut _up_, Tucker!"

A small smile made its way to Danny's lips. He gave it a moment before continuing. "Anyway, I was thinking that I should go and do a solo exploration mission of the Ghost Zone. I mean, it can't be just as small as what we've mapped out, and it would be easier for me to do it alone and not have to worry about you guys lagging behind in the Specter Speeder. No offense."

There were a few moments of silence as Sam mulled over her words. Tucker had taken up some game on his PDA, and Danny was looking at her, his eyes mirroring a hopeful expression. The sounds of the other students reached Sam's ears; the clang and clash of silverware, the talking and joking, the angry drawl of the lunch lady as she turned down students who dared to go and ask for seconds.

Again, that feeling of dread began to crawl in Sam's stomach, churning around the bit of her salad that she'd already digested. It was worse this time, more foreboding, and Sam still didn't know what to make of it. But she wasn't so far gone as to realize that this feeling had only come up today, and only when Danny and Tucker talked about going into the Ghost Zone, something Danny was all for, and something that Tucker was completely against.

Surely, if she listened to her gut, it wouldn't lead her wrong. Danny followed his all the time and he was still okay. Finally, Sam turned back to Danny and shook her head, hating the way his eyes dulled in color. "I'm not sure that's a very good idea, Danny. What do you need to know about the Ghost Zone that you already don't?"

Danny shrugged, pointedly ignoring the smug look on Tucker's face, which was wiped away just as soon as Sam rounded on him. "Nothing, I guess. Just curiosity."

But his eyes said something more, and Sam knew that Danny could tell that she saw it. Still, she didn't press it, knowing that he'd tell her eventually, probably when Tucker wasn't around. That was how it worked with them. Sidelong glances, a raise of the eyebrows, even a turn of the lips. It was a language all of their own, made by them, for them.

He'd tell her, she was sure, because they were sturdy.

**This was the first actual chapter. I don't really have any set length, but my chapters (besides prologues or if I tell you in advance) will always have at least 1,000 words in them.**

**Please review and give your feedback. I'd love to hear what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome! **

**Thank you for reading.**

**Next Chapter: Journey- As Sam and Tucker are stuck in detention, Dany explores the Ghost Zone. **


	3. Journey

**Chapter 2: Journey**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.**

**Dedication: To all the good people in the world.**

_The Ghost Zone_

_Unknown Location_

_3:30 PM_

It was in Gym, one of the few classes that Danny didn't have with Sam or Tucker, that he made his decision.

Danny Fenton wasn't a stupid person by nature, but at times his own desires and wishes managed to get in the way of something that he knew was wrong or silly. When he'd told Sam his plan for going into the Ghost Zone for a solo exploration mission, he'd completely expected her to agree. In fact, he'd been planning on it. So, when she hadn't, he wasn't sure how to feel.

He'd expected such a thing from Tucker, namely because he figured that Tucker would want to be part of the adventure, as he was a man of action. Sam, though, thought more with logic than brawn like her counterpart, and Danny knew that she'd see reason. Tucker had been elated when she'd taken his side rather than Danny's, but Danny was sure that Tucker had missed the glint in Sam's eyes, something that he recognized but just couldn't place.

And, through all this, he knew that she saw through his plan. He'd never been able to keep anything from Sam, ever since they'd met on the first day of Kindergarten. He hadn't known it them, but that little girl with the pig-tails and green overalls would become a main influence in his life, someone that he could trust and go to in times of need. So, he wasn't surprised that she'd caught his bluff. It was the fact that she hadn't mentioned it that got Danny a little worried.

Truthfully, if he was being honest with himself, Danny knew that Sam was just being patient, giving him a chance to come forward and tell her on his own. She knew he would, because he always did. And while Danny still wasn't sure what to make of her rejection to his plan, he was happy that she hadn't pressed, because they both knew that Tucker probably wouldn't catch on unless someone told him.

All of these thoughts came to head in Gym class, right as he tossed the basketball into the net, managing to score a nice, sound point for his team. This was when his whole plan came to fruition. He'd have to be sneaky, of course, but he was used to that. If his ghost powers had given him anything, it was the ability to move around unnoticed and have a certain knack for keeping secrets.

He'd have to distract Tucker and Sam long enough for him to slip in and out of the Ghost Zone unnoticed. Detention should cover most of that. Mr. Lancer had caught them searching through his personal belongings in the Teachers' Lounge and he, being so obsessed with his own privacy, was sure to keep Sam and Tucker for a whole. Of course, they'd only been in his stuff in the first place because Technus had decided that the lounge was the perfect place to keep his new mind control device that Danny had somehow given him the idea for.

His parents were out of town for the day at some ghost convention, which helped him greatly in the fact that they wouldn't suddenly walk down to the lab and find their son, or Danny Phantom, sneaking around their Ghost Portal. Jazz would be their, and probably question him about why he was going alone, but he'd already taken care of that. Earlier that morning, he'd overshadowed her AP English teacher and convinced him to give an extra credit assignment over the works of William Shakespeare. Knowing Jazz, she'd be working on it all night.

Rude, yes, but he knew that it was a necessary sacrifice if he wanted to get into the Ghost Zone and stay for a while without being caught, interrupted, or followed.

He had to go and get some answers, because he couldn't let his dream become a reality.

So, after the last bell rang its shrill call and Tucker and Sam were safely in detention, none the wiser to what he planned to do, Danny set off, heading for his house and the Ghost Portal. There was very little to stop him from his goal, as he'd made sure that all of his enemies were locked safely away the night before.

Fenton Works was silent when he entered through the front door, Jazz no doubt already in her room, hard at work on the English paper that Danny had made her teacher assign. His parents were already gone, off at their ghost hunting conference, leaving the lab all to Danny. His plan had ensured that Jazz would be occupied, and Sam and Tucker were still stuck at school, serving a detention that neither of them deserved.

Danny tried to ignore this as he slipped silently and stealthily into the Ghost Portal, cringing slightly at the small feeling of dizziness he always felt as he slipped from one dimension to the other. Everything was as it had been, just like the last time he'd been there. It had been about a week ago, and Tucker and Sam had been with him, Jazz keeping up the look-out by the entrance. They'd only gone in to drop off the ghosts in the Fenton Thermos, and the visit was short and sweet.

But Danny had a destination this time; one that was in the very far reaches of the Ghost Zone, where nearly no one traveled. He needed to see Clockwork, which was something he hadn't jumped at the chance to tell Sam and Tucker. He hadn't told them about his dream, hadn't planned to, and so this was the only way. Once he'd talked to Clockwork, gotten everything straightened out, then he'd talk to Sam, sure that she'd be waiting for him.

She'd be mad, Danny was sure, but it was a price that he was all to willing to pay if he was able to get the answers he needed from Clockwork; and he needed them desperately.

He hadn't been sure what to think of the dream. He'd had nightmares, of course, but never anything as violent and as vivid as the one hat he'd had two nights ago. It had been a strong gut feeling that pushed him to go and see Clockwork. He'd never had one quite like it, the feeling so strong that he hadn't been able to fall back asleep. He'd been hard pressed not to skip the next day of school to go and see the Master of All Time, but had decided better of it, favoring his Latin test in favor of his eerie dream.

As he traveled through some of the most dangerous parts of the Ghost Zone, careful to keep an eye out for anything that may attack him, Danny contemplated on his choice of not allowing Sam and Tucker to come with him. Even though he desperately wanted to keep this trip a secret, he wasn't sure that he was willing to get attacked or killed because of it.

But, luck was on his side and he was mercifully able to reach Clockwork's castle without running into any of his enemies. He entered at once, refusing to hesitate, and not giving himself time to run away and forget about the whole thing. If Danny was being truthful with himself, he wasn't sure that he wanted to know anything about his dream. He wasn't sure he was ready for the truth.

Still, he plowed on, passed the dark and gloomy halls, passed the shelves stacked with hourglass after hourglass, giving insight into how long someone had left on the earth. He wasn't sure how long it took him to reach Clockwork himself, but time didn't really have any place in the Ghost Zone.

The Master of All Time was positioned where it seemed he always was, in front of his sacred mirrors, watching as image after image flickered passed, some good, some bad, but all bound to happen. If something appeared in Clockwork's mirror, it would take a lot of work to change it. This was possibly the reason that Danny was in such a state. He knew what he'd seen in his dream, like it or not, and if Clockwork told him that it was all true then he wasn't prepared to react.

"Ah, Danny." Clockwork sensed the halfa's presence before even a word was uttered. He'd no doubt been expecting him, having seen his arrival in the mirrors that told the future. "I was wondering when you'd come."

Danny took a breath, mentally preparing himself. He wasn't entirely sure that he was ready to speak, wasn't positive that this trip was even necessary, and didn't know how he'd react if it was. "So, you know why I'm here." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

Clockwork turned, the images in his mirrors dissipating a whirl of smoke and mist. His baby face held no expression, calm or otherwise. His eyes bored into Danny's and they spoke volumes. "Of course; but, I know everything. And you've come to ask about your dream."

Danny nodded. "Yeah. Is it…am I…Is it true? Is there anything I can do to change it?"

There was at once a real, genuine smile on Clockwork's elderly face, and his eyes sparkled with something that Danny couldn't identify. "I'm sure you already know the answer to that." He glided over soundlessly, laying a cold hand on Danny's shoulder. "But you've come to deny it. Or, more specifically, you've some to have me deny it."

He knew he shouldn't be surprised that Clockwork had seen through his guise so easily, but Danny couldn't help the look of pure shock that graced his face. Even after all this time, the magnificent being that was Clockwork was still just a mystery. He tried to make his head move, to make his mouth open, but it seemed that the shock was to much for him to handle, and he stayed silent.

For a long while, there was no noise, only silence. Slowly, the soft swish and hum of the many hourglasses reached Danny's ears, along with the deep echo that accompanied every noise and movement in the Ghost Zone. There were footfalls, perfectly timed, and they seemed to reverberate from all directions. Danny felt multiple eyes on him, even though he was sure that it was just him and Clockwork in the castle.

Slowly, ever so quietly, images filled his vision; flashes from his dream, from his nightmare, from the future.

_Screaming._

_Crying._

_Running._

_Tears slid down pale, alabaster cheeks._

_People gathered around, hugging one another, grieving for the ones that they had all lost that day._

_A grave stone._

_Petals floating in the wind._

_A name: S—_

"But there is only so much I can give." Clockwork's deep voice broke through Danny's reverie. He was now an adult, his stature confident and strong. His voice gave away everything and nothing at all. "I'm afraid you'll have to find out most of it on your own."

"But, Clockwork," Danny began, his heart in his throat. "There has to be something—anything. I came for answers. I _need_ answers."

"And you will have them." The Master of All Time flicked a small, chubby wrist, and his mirrors whirled back to life, images flooding through in rapid succession of one another. The centermost mirror stopped, the imaged it displayed not unlike those Danny had seen in his dream. "This is the future. But so is this."

Another flicker and the image changed. A smiling Danny and a laughing Sam, running from a frowning and wheezing Tucker. They were in the park; the background was light and happy. The sky was the healthiest shade of blue that Danny had ever seen, and he marveled at how perfect the day looked. They all seemed happy, _he_ seemed happy. But the most important feature that Danny noticed, perhaps the most miniscule detail, was the bright and shining ring on Sam's right ring finger. The sun caught it perfectly, casting an amazing prism of light.

Then, both images blinked into blackness, and Danny was once again in Clockwork's castle, but feeling more alone and lost then ever. Two futures had been set before him, and yet he had no idea how to achieve either one of them.

"But I don't understand," He said, turning rapidly to face the now elderly Clockwork. "How can two futures be so different? How am I supposed to reach the right one?"

Clockwork gave a smile, but this one was full of mystery and underlay a double meaning. "Which future is the right one?" He asked. "You'll just have to figure them both out for yourself."

Dejected and getting what he came for, even if it wasn't what he wanted, Danny turned to go, but was stopped by clockwork's voice. "Oh, and Danny? No matter which future comes to pass, you _will _lose the thing most dear to you; even if it isn't in the way you think."

That day, Danny left Clockwork's tower and the Ghost Zone with no answers and many more questions then he had arrived with.

**Aright! I know that the ending was rushed, but I wanted to get this up for you guys to read. This dream that Danny is talking about, it'll be explained later. It's supposed to leave you confused! **

**On another note, there will be action in this story! Yay! But that won't come into play until later. I know that things may seem jumbled and confusing now, but I promise on my heart that they'll make sense as the story goes on! **

**Thanks for the reviews and keep them up! Let's see if I can have ten by the time I post the third chapter! **

**Next Chapter: Question—Sam Manson has a shocking encounter and Danny's thoughts are plagued by his nightmare.**


	4. Question

**Chapter 3: Question**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom.**

**Dedication: To reviews! They really make me smile! :) *Hint Hint***

_Fenton Works_

_4:30 PM_

The cold metal of the knocker felt icy against Samantha Manson's warm fingers as she lifted the device and brought it back down against the wood of the door. The sound of metal on wood managed to aggravate her already throbbing head and the chill of the February air didn't do much in the way of helping.

She'd had to stop at home before coming here; her usual outfit of a belly shirt and micro-mini skirt didn't fair very well against the harsh winds. She had taken a jacket—her favorite black one that made her look like an Eskimo—and slipped on some faux-leather gloves.

Mr. Lancer had let them out earlier than expected, considering the reason they were in detention in the first place, but Sam wasn't complaining. Throughout the rest of the school day, she'd been pining to get Danny alone, just to tell him that she would listen when he was ready to talk about whatever was bothering him, but she hadn't gotten the chance. First it had been some kid named Mikey. He'd needed Sam's help with a math problem that she was particularly good at. Then it had been Tucker, begging her to help him with this prank he was planning to get back at Danny for getting them detention. She'd refused. The final straw had been when Mr. Felucca pulled her aside and told her that her science paper was incomplete, and she'd need to redo it before turning it in again.

Sam hadn't seen much of Danny after lunch. They didn't have any of their afternoon classes together, something that she often complained to him about, and hadn't had any time to go searching for him after lunch.

She wasn't exactly sure what it was that was plaguing Danny, but guessed that it had to be something important for him to be so off-kilter all day. Tucker hadn't even noticed but, then again, Sam—and probably Danny—hadn't expected him to. It wasn't in the geek boy's nature to notice things that, to him, held no significant meaning. So what if Danny was quieter than usual. He was probably just tired from his ghost hunting the night before.

Sam wasn't so easily convinced and, when the door finally did slide open, she knew that she'd been right. Danny looked horrible. There were large, black bags under his eyes like he hadn't had a good night sleep in a while; his back was hunched so low that he was practically leaning over himself, and his face looked sad and sunken in. He was in some boxer shorts and a plain blue shirt, a mug of coffee in his hand.

He yawned and his blue eyes widened slightly when he realized who was at his door. Danny straightened and stood back, gesturing to the inside of his house. "Sam! What are you doing here? Did Mr. Lancer let you out already?"

Sam allowed herself to be shepherded inside by her friend and welcomed the warm blast of heat as it hit her face. She felt the pain in her head die some, and new that the heat was helping. She pulled off her gloves and hat and smiled when Danny helped her slip off her huge jacket. She hung them all in the hall closet and proceeded to follow Danny into the kitchen.

She took a seat at the wooden dinner table, blowing slightly on her frozen hands to warm them up. She watched, amethyst eyes amused, as Danny pitter-pattered around the kitchen, grabbing her a mug and pouring some coffee into it, adding three sugar cubes just as she liked it, and set it on the table before taking his seat across from her at the table.

Silence reigned until, "I thought you'd head home, Sam. Don't you have that big test tomorrow that you need to study for, and a paper to write for English Honors?"

Sam smiled, testing the coffee with her finger, deemed it was too hot, and leaned forward in her chair. "Okay. First, it's only four-thirty; I have plenty of time to study. Second, that English paper isn't due until Friday, and I've only got one page left to write."

Danny blinked. "Oh." He took one large gulp of coffee and set the cup down, its contents now drained.

"Besides," Sam reached her hand out across the table, grabbing Danny's and lacing her fingers with his, trying her best to ignore the way their skin on skin contact set her skin on fire and made her heart surge. "I figured you'd need to talk. Tucker would have come but, you know him. And I thought that maybe you didn't want him to know what's wrong with you—whatever that happens to be."

The wind outside the home gave a loud roar, unleashing its furry against the side of the building. The rafters began to shake and groan; the lights flickered off for the smallest of seconds and lit right back up. There was a curse from upstairs followed by loud stomping and an, "I never got to save that document!" from a frazzled sounding Jazz.

The shout managed to break some of the angsty tension and Danny let out a small laugh, but even though it reached his mouth, it didn't reach him eyes. They were tired and worried as they look on at Sam. "Was I that obvious?"

"No," Sam squeezed his hand and used the other to retest her coffee—still too hot. "But I know you. Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to, of course, but if you want to."

There it was—a small flicker of emotion laughter in Danny's eyes. Her stole his hand from Sam's and folded his arms across the table, letting his head fall down to rest on them. "It's just…It's just nothing, but then it's everything, all at the same time." He looked up, his lips in a frown, his brows furrowed. "Wait. That didn't make any sense did it?"

Sam laughed. "No, it didn't." Her eyes softened. "But I know what you mean."

Danny was shaking his head now, pushing himself up from the table to pour himself another cup of coffee. "I don't think you do. I don't think you ever can." He took his seat again and brought his mug to his lips, drinking half the coffee scolding hot.

"You don't know until you try," Sam said. She snatched the cup of coffee from her friend before he could take another sip. "Stop. You'll burn yourself."

"Really? I didn't feel it."

Sam sighed, finally taking a swig from her mug, the coffee now just cool enough for her to safely drink. "Come on, Danny. Be reasonable. Just tell me what's bothering you and then we can wok it out. Or try to."

Danny pulled a face. "I've just been thinking. You know? About what would happen if you and Tucker, well, weren't here anymore."

Sam frowned. Out of all the things she'd expected him to say, that certainly wasn't it. And, as she caught a glimpse of his face, she realized that it wasn't what Danny actually meant. That wasn't it at all. But he obviously wasn't going to tell her the whole truth, at least not at that moment, so Sam decided to look passed it.

"Do you mean like, if we died?" She made sure to keep her voice measured, choosing her words carefully before saying them. Danny was obviously in a state and she had to be careful and cautious about how she went about talking to him.

Danny nodded. Then thought better of it, frowned, and shook his head. "Not exactly." He sighed. "What I mean is you…or Tucker…just, I don't know, poofed?"

Sam raised a brow, clearly confused by what she'd heard. "Poofed?"

"No!" Danny grit his teeth together, reaching for his cup of still steaming coffee. Sam managed to get it out of his reach just in time. "I don't know! Like, if one of you was…captured or something. I mean—"

"Danny!" Sam was appalled and she was pretty sure that it reflected in her voice. "What are you talking about? Where is all of this coming from?"

Danny shook his head again, trailing his eyes up to look at Sam's. And what she saw was a mixture of horror and anxiety, a mix she hardly ever saw on her best friend. "Just thinking about it is all. What if I can't get to you in time and you end up trapped in the Ghost Zone until you die? Or worse, get turned into a ghost just like me."

Sam had never seen him in this state before, and it sacred her, scared her more than she was comfortable to admit. Danny was like her rock, always had been, and now that he wasn't, she was reeling from the feeling of grief that she felt over it. Danny had always helped her and now she should be helping him.

Only she didn't know how.

The feeling was so painful to her that it seemed she'd rather be thrown into a vat of fire than sit in Danny's house and watch as he beat himself up over something that hadn't even happened. Something that—hopefully—would never happen. So why did Danny seem to think it would?

"Danny," Sam began, once again lacing his fingers with hers. This time she was too worried to feel the rush of pleasure that the contact with Danny gave her. "Tucker and I can protect ourselves. You know that. You shouldn't be worrying so much."

"Shouldn't I?" Danny scowled. "Shouldn't I be worried? I mean, God, Sam! This world is a horrible, dangerous place. Look at what I do every day! Look at what you and Tucker do every day! How can I go on knowing that you and Tucker are always in danger? That any minute Skulker or Technus or, God forbid, Plasmius could jump out and attack you both!" He threw his hands into the air, letting out a huge gust of air.

Silence reigned as Sam processed everything that he friend had just revealed to her. All of his worries, his doubts. Truthfully, if she was being honest with herself, Sam had thought of the same things. But she was always placated by the simple fact that Danny would always get there in time. He'd always be able to help her and Tucker, no matter what.

Hadn't he demonstrated that enough?

Sam sighed. "Danny, maybe if you stopped worrying about everyone else for once and focused on yourself, you'd see that Tucker and I have nothing to worry about." She gave a mega-what smile, hoping to calm his nerves. "You've never failed us before, so why do you think you will now?"

The halfa opened his mouth and Sam was praising herself for digging his fears out of him. But he never said anything. His lips closed before even a word was uttered and Sam felt her hope drop to the pits of her stomach.

She wasn't going to get it out of him, not tonight anyway. He was obviously in that mood he sometimes got in where his hero-complex overwhelmed logic and he closed himself off because he thought that he was protecting his friends from his fears if he only didn't voice them. It was a stupid thought, really. Sam and Tucker knew him well enough to know what he was actually happy or just pretending to be.

Still, Sam had tested the water and they were much too murky for her to try and swim through. She'd have to corner him sometime when he was vulnerable and wouldn't have anywhere to run to. Yes, next time he was over at her place, she'd get him.

She was just opening her mouth to tell him as much when she felt a vibrating in her pocket. The words to Uncle Kracker's _Drift Away _floated throughout the room, causing Danny's head to snap up and a smile to grace his lips.

"Really, Sam?" He laughed. "Uncle Kracker?"

Sam scowled at him and fished the Blackberry from her pocket. A picture of her smiling mother flashed on the screen along with the words _Your Worst Nightmare calling. Answer? _Sam smiled at the inside joke behind the name choice and hit the talk button.

"Sammy-kins?" The falsetto, cheery voice of her mother flooded loud through the phone speaker and Sam cringed.

She cast a glare at Danny's laughing face. "Yeah, mom. What's up?"

There was a relieved sigh from the other end of the phone line, followed by some shuffling and muffled voices. Then, "Oh, Sammy! We were so worried! When you didn't get home your father and I were practically calling the whole town, asking where you were!"

Sam sighed. It was definitely not unusual for her parents to freak out about such a little thing. "I told you that I had detention. I just stopped by Danny's afterwards for a minute. I'll come home now if you want. I didn't mean to make you worry. Sorry."

Which, of course, she wasn't. Her parents were so over bearing when they wanted to be and it grated at her nerves on a good day, but on a bad one just made her down right frustrated.

"We'll see you soon then." Her mother said curtly before hanging up.

Sam glanced at Danny, the phone still at her ear. Shaking her head, she cut it off and placed it back into her pocket. "Sorry."

Danny laughed, standing. "Not a problem." He grabbed her coffee mug and his, taking them to the sink and dumping out the contents. He led Sam out to the front door and watched as she grabbed her bulky coat, helping her sliding it over her shoulders.

Sam opened the front door, the icy wind and cold snow immediately zapping the heat out of the door way. She cast Danny one final look before smiling. "I'll see you tomorrow. And you'll be in a better mood."

It wasn't a question, but a statement and Danny found himself laughing as Sam slid down his front steps, nearly falling once, and continued down the street with only half of her dignity intact.

**I've just noticed something. The first few chapters of this story were very depressing. I'm sorry, but am happy to say that they won't all be. I've got a lot of plans for this story, and I need to get the weird beginning out of the way. Rest assured, the whole story won't be like this!**

**Also, I've been thinking this through in my head, and I've planned out the story to be roughly forty to fifty chapters. That's majorly long, I know, but the plot for this story will become very in depth and I need to plan it all out. **

**I'm sorry about the lateness of the chapter. I really didn't mean for it to take this long. The next ones won't be so slow, I promise. **

**Um…should I do a diary chapter every once in a while. Like, an entry or two out of Sam's diary or Tucker's PDA just to make things interesting. Let me know! :)**

**One last thing. I know that Sam didn't have her encounter that I said she'd have in this chapter, but I think that would make it entirely too long and it'll fit better as a chapter as itself anyway. So, it'll be in the next one.**

**I didn't get ten reviews, but I got eight. Thanks to those who reviewed and please keep them coming.**

**Next Chapter: Encounter—Sam has a strange encounter with someone she never expected. **


	5. Encounter

**Chapter 4: Encounter**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom. Nor do I own any of the songs mentioned in this chapter.**

**Dedication: To Bo because you made the stupid phrase "throw a clock and make time fly" funny. :)**

Sam managed to make it home about ten minutes after her mother had called her. The cold wind had chilled her to the bone and she used that excuse to get passed her mom and dad without having any real sort of argument. They had looked at her and she had glared at them for a few minutes before her grandmother came in and said they were all being stupid.

With a smile and a hidden chuckle, Sam made it up the stairs and into the comfort of her bedroom before any sort of fight started up. She heard her mom downstairs, saying something harshly to her grandma and Sam was momentarily worried until she heard the sound of her father scoffing and assumed that her grandma had fixed the situation in that way that she always did for her.

She'd had the heater cranked up to high before she left for school that morning, and her room was toasty warm. Sam shed her coat and sweater before stripping down completely and walking into her own private bathroom.

It was a beautiful room with black tile floors and rose painted walls. There were two sinks, each on the other side of the counter from the other and a slate glass shower. Sam had bought a special showerhead, one with three settings to help her muscles after a hard day of ghost hunting. There was also a Jacuzzi centered right in front of a frosted glass window that overlooked the street and homes below her.

Other than her bedroom, this was Sam's favorite room in the whole house. She'd personalized it, adding little bat stickers to the walls and buying pitch black curtains for the windows and bathtub. She'd placed her favorite bloodred loufa and body wash on the edges of the tub and some more of it on the shelves in the shower. She had her sticker-coated boom-box plugged into the wall and switched it on to play the radio.

She began to fill up the tub, favoring a soothing bath over a shower at the moment. While the water filled she puttered around, grabbing a fluffy black towel and placing it on the ledge beside the bathtub, grabbing her cell phone and setting it on the rim of the tub, just in case someone called.

She was particularly hoping for a call from Danny, just to check up on her and see if she'd gotten home okay, but she'd never voice that feeling aloud. It was such a new and weird sensation, one that she'd only just come to realize. She still wasn't sure how to react to it, that feeling. She hadn't even decided if it was good or bad yet.

_We've been seeing what you wanted,__  
__Got us cornered right now__  
__Falling asleep from our vanity__  
__May cost us our lives_

_I hear them getting closer__  
__Their howls are sending chills down my spine__  
__And time is running out now,__  
__They're coming down the hills from behind_

_When we start killing__  
__It's all coming down right now__  
__From the nightmare we've created__  
__I want to be awakened somehow__  
__(Wanna be awakened right now)_

The soothing sounds of Within Temptation filled her ears as Sam deemed the water warm enough and slipped in. A sigh escaped her lips as the temperature of the water heated and worked at her aching muscles.

This was the best. In the bath it was just her and her music; no ghosts, no Danny, no schoolwork, and no painful nightmares, because he knew that was what was grinding Danny's gears. It was calm and tranquil, a beautiful silence that seemed so far reaching, so omnipresent that Sam nearly forgot where she was.

Sam must have dozed, because when she finally started to pay attention to her surroundings, the water in the tub had gone cold and her radio was blasting F_ace Down _by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus instead of _The Howling _from Within Temptation. The windows had fogged so much that it was nearly impossible to catch a glimpse of the outside world.

_Do you feel like a man__  
__when you push her around?__  
__Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground?__  
__Well I'll tell you my friend, one day this world's goin' to end__  
__as your lies crumble down, a new life she has found._

_A pebble in the water makes a ripple effect__  
__every action in this world will bear a consequence__  
__If you wait around forever you will surely drown__  
__I see what's going down._

With an impatient huff, Sam rose from the water, wrapping a towel around herself, and slipped from the tub, turning off the radio as she went. She twisted the knob on her bathroom door and shivered at the difference in temperature from her fogged and heated bathroom and her slightly chilly bedroom.

With slightly shaking legs, she padded across the room and over to her dresser. It was a nice dark burgundy color. She'd fallen in love with it as soon as she'd seen it in the furniture magazine. She remembered how she's expressed her favor of it to Danny and he'd somehow come up with the money to get it for her.

That had been a good day and Sam smiled at the memory, remembering vividly the way Tucker's eyes had widened at Danny's birthday gift for her. Sam had no doubt that he'd expected something else, something more Sam's style. But she hadn't cared. In fact, she had been so beyond caring that she threw her arms around Danny and hugged him, right in front of a room full of people.

He'd blushed and she'd smiled and she had thought that, for sure this time, they'd kiss. But he'd pulled away and she just couldn't bring herself to be too disappointed, what with the room full of people there to celebrate her birth.

Sam grabbed some black flannel pants and a nice gray tank top from the top drawer and let the towel drop to the ground. She pulled on her underwear and pants, passed up the bra and just threw the tank top over her head. She slid on a pair of Emily the Strange slippers and crashed on her bed, leaving the towel on the floor for her maid to clean up when she came the next day.

The softness of her Egyptian cotton sheets felt so good on Sam's wrinkled skin that she fell into a slumber before her head even hit the pillow.

* * *

_Blood._

_There was so much blood._

_The smell of it was horrid, like rusted iron. It filled her senses, clogged her mind, leaving her incapable of movement and speech. Her limbs were crusted with the vile liquid, some of it dry, some of it still wet and flowing. It was coming from her legs, Sam knew, and her arms, and her head. It was coming from everywhere._

_She was in the dark; somewhere in the dark, but she hadn't the faintest idea where. She could see nothing, hear nothing, taste nothing. The only things she could do were smell the blood on her skin, feel the pain in her limbs, and hope that everything was going to be okay._

_But even in the brightest parts of her mind, she knew that hope was false. She didn't know where she was, had no earthly idea how badly she was hurt, and wasn't even sure how she'd gotten herself into this situation. Some part of her, however small and dismal that part may be, was aware that something horrible must have happened._

_Then, Danny._

_Where was Danny?_

_Certainly, something must have happened to him for her to have possibly been hurt so badly. If he could have helped it, she wouldn't be wherever she was, in whatever shape she was in. Unless…_

_Unless…_

_Unless Danny didn't know that anything was wrong. Unless he had no idea that she was even in whatever situation she was in. That must have been it, Sam knew, it must have. There was a feeling of slight hope bubbling in her chest. But that was quickly dismissed as she realized that she had no possible way of getting into contact with Danny. There was no possible way to get into contact with anyone._

_She was all alone. Somehow, she was all alone and she'd have to force herself to move, to get up, if she could even dream of escaping to safety. _

Move_, Sam told herself. _Move!

_Gathering all her strength into her arms and legs, gritting her teeth against the stabs of pain that shot from her aching appendages, she forced herself to move. Her arms scraped, just barely, against the rough ground, causing more spasms of pain, which she also ignored. Another push and her left leg had moved. Then her right, then her left again, and she had moved at least a few inches._

_There was a small bubble of excitement rising in Sam, and when she had finally moved about a foot, she wanted to cheer in joy. But the crawl had tired her out and her head was aching and she didn't have the strength to do anything but lay there._

_That was when Sam saw it. The light. There was a light just ahead of her, moving in her direction at a slow pace, bouncing up and down like the glow from a shaking lantern. She wanted to reach for it, to call out to whoever it was, whatever it was, but she didn't. She lay, waiting, in tense silence as the light moved closer and closer still._

_Finally, after what seemed to be forever and a day, Sam could make out a form. It was small and slim, definitely feminine, definitely human. She was coming closer and closer and Sam kept trying to make out of face, but none was visible. Then, when the form was just in front of Sam, it stopped. The lantern hung at its side, swinging from side to side, front to back, creaking with age._

_Sam was able to croak out, "Who?" But that was all. Her throat was thick and dry with thirst. Her vision was fading in and out, but Sam hardly noticed it over the pain in her limbs._

_The figure seemed to shake her head. The lantern lifted and Sam saw a slim chin, full, purple painted lips dripping blood. Locks of pitch black hair hung at the edges of the light and Sam felt her heart sink to the ground. _

_What was this? Who was this? What was happening to her?_

_Then, Sam saw the face of the figure, her face. It was scared and bloodied, eyes bruised, cheeks slashed with cuts. The hands that held the lantern were shaking, skin peeled back, and dripping blood to the ground. _

_The soft patter of blood hitting stone was like a bomb going of it sounded so loud. The sounded echoed around the dark space of wherever it was. Sam stared, transfixed, eyes wide, at herself as she tilted her head to the side, opened her mouth as if trying to speak, and then saw tears dripping from the other her's eyes. They fell and mixed with the blood on the ground, doing nothing to dull the strong tang of blood._

"_You," The other her whispered, and Sam had to strain to hear because the sound was so quiet and raspy. "Your fault." A shaky finger directed itself at Sam's face. "You couldn't save them. You couldn't do it."_

_Sam wanted, tried, and failed to open her mouth and ask what the figure was talking about. The pain in her limbs was coming in stronger now, so strong that Sam began to gasp and shake from the sheer pain of it all. _

_It was like a fire, a horrible, wretched fire spreading through her veins, filling her with a heat so hot that it was literally searing her insides. Sam gasped again and again and again, but the other her only smiled a chilly, satisfied smile._

_Then it was just black and a lot of pain._

_

* * *

_

Sam shot awake with a start, sitting up from her bed, coughing painfully, swatting at flames that she knew weren't actually there. She was sweating, heaving so bad that her chest was hurting. Her hair, slick with sweat, was plastered against her forehead and the sides of her face.

She frantically tried to calm her breathing, taking deep breathes and letting them out slowly. Her head hurt and her throat was so dry that it was burning, just like she'd been burning in her dream…

Sam was up and out of bed before she had a change to realize what she was doing. She went to the two Victorian style doors that led to her balcony and threw them open, hardly noticing the loud crash they made as they connected with the wall. The fresh air hit Sam's face and it felt so amazingly good that she finally started to come down from her frightened high.

Slowly, very slowly, she came back to her senses. The painful beating of her heart slowed down and her throat seemed to open again. With shaky fingers, she wiped at the hair in her face, pushing it out of the way and behind her ear. She stepped out onto her balcony and gripped the railing, relishing the familiar cold of the metal.

Outside, Amity Park slept. The only lights were the ones that illuminated the streets and the shine from the large, brightly lit Christmas tree in town square. A light snow fell softly, sprinkling the ground and Sam with its whiteness. The clouds overhead were dark with the falling snow and there was a light breeze.

It was cold, a nice cold that chilled Sam to the core, snuffing out the last bit of burning fire from her horrible nightmare. Sam vaguely wondered what time it was, and figured that it must have been pretty late if there wasn't even a single car on the road.

It was peaceful in a late-night-calm sort of way. No one else, just her. The feeling was welcomed despite the dream she'd just had.

The dream…

Sam had never, in her whole life, ever had a nightmare so terrifying. She'd had the scary ones where she was being chased by an ax murderer, the ones where she'd lost her friends in the dark, and even the ones that everyone has about showing up, naked, at school. But never, ever like that.

Just the though it was enough to make Sam's stomach churn all over again, causing her to feel light headed. With a resounding sigh, she stepped back from the balcony and closed and locked the doors. She turned around to head back to bed, only….

…Only to come face to face with Clockwork, Master of All Time.

Sam let out a sight yelp and stumbled back, tripping over some discarded shirt and flailing to keep her balance. "Oh my God!" Sam gasped, clutching her hands to her heart as if to physically slow down its rapid tempo.

Clockwork was in adult form, and trying very hard not to laugh. His eyes were alight and his smile was large. "I'm sorry." He said, but didn't seem it at all.

Sam would have been mad if she wasn't so shocked at the man, no ghost, floating in the middle of her bedroom so late at night. He looked tall and regal, clutching his staff close to his side.

"Um…" Sam said, unsure how to proceed. She'd been alone with a ghost before, of course, but never one as important as Clockwork. For some strange reason, she felt the need to look more presentable, throw on something more covering maybe. She tried in vain to smooth out her bed head.

Clockwork looked at her and said, "Oh!" Before grasping her elbow and pulling her over to sit at her bed. Sam, not used to touching any ghost besides Danny, shivered slightly. "Of course."

Sam took a seat on her bed as she was instructed and pulled her arm away as quickly as she politely could. As much as she trusted Clockwork, she hadn't really been fond of making skin on skin contact with any ghost except Danny, whose contact she was already used to before his change.

"I'm sure your wondering why I'm here." Clockwork said, his face serious once more, all trace of laughter gone. He was a ghost on a mission, Sam supposed, and wanted to behave accordingly.

Sam nodded, but knew hat it wasn't needed. Clockwork knew everything and, as such, knew that she wanted to know why he was here. She noticed him float a few inches back and probably guessed that he knew she was slightly uncomfortable as well.

"Not that I mean to be rude, or anything," Sam felt compelled to add, although she wasn't sure why.

Clockwork simply smiled. "That dream you just had," He said abruptly and bluntly. "You were dead. Well, halfway dead. You were half here and half in limbo."

"What?"

"Not just then, you weren't." Clockwork added, seemingly registering the shocked look on Sam's face. "But you will be. In time."

"What?" Sam repeated. The room, her room, was silent but for her breathing and the slight ticking of her heating unit kicking on suddenly. She could hear her parents in the next room over, shuffling around in their sleep, snoring and oblivious to the world.

Clockwork, now an old man, fingered at his beard and flicked his staff. An hour glass appeared suddenly, suspended in mid-air, nearly empty. Then another and another and another, all in one straight row, all holding the same amount of brown sand, all with the same amount of time to live. Then another row appeared and another, until Sam's whole room was full of spinning hour glasses.

There were names, names Sam recognized.

_Dash Baxter._

_Star._

_Quan._

_Mr. Lancer._

And there were more names, more people. Her parents, Danny, Tucker, and her own name. All had the same amount of sand; all had the same amount of time left.

Sam, unsure how to react to this, faced a grim looking Clockwork. She went to speak, but the Master of All Time beat her to it.

"In three months," He said. "In three months, all of Amity Park will be dead."

**Hey! I'm really sorry for the long wait, but I'm back! Alright, so, did any of you expect this? Anyone think that Clockwork was the mysterious visitor? Tell me in a review!**

**IMPORTANT! MUST READ! Okay, so, I'm going to start working on the next chapter today and if I get TEN, yes TEN, reviews by tomorrow afternoon, then I'll upload the next chapter tomorrow! I'm serious! So, review!**

**Next Chapter: Field trip-Casper High takes a field trip to the local art museum and a new ghost emerges!**


	6. Field Trip

**Chapter 5: Field Trip**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.**

**Dedication: For Tabby, because, as a kitten, you died way too soon.**

The bus was roaring with voices, some loud, some soft, but all blending together into one loud chorus of mumbles, slicing through the earth shattering beats currently banging from Sam Manson's ear buds. She was nestled in between Danny's side and the cool, frosty metal of the bus side.

Outside the window, Amity Park bustled around as the day began to dawn. Adults jumped into their cars and filed onto the freeway, all hoping to miss the morning traffic but none of them succeeding, Snow created a light sprinkle on the roads and sidewalks, shops and homes were adorned with Christmas decorations and lights. Carolers and Santa's stood outside of store fronts, ringing their bells and asking for donations to the Salvation Army. People stopped to drop in spare change.

The town already had such a Christmas-y feel and it was only the second week of November. The city council had strung up the Christmas tree in town square and covered it in lights and garland strands. The Make a Wish Kids had come out and hung up the paper stars with their names that they'd decorated during their arts and crafts time.

Mr. Lancer, for whatever reason, had decided to take the sophomore class to the Amity Park Art Institute for some good, old-fashioned learning. Apparently, he had some sway with the director of projects there and had managed to get all the students in for free. Principal Ishiyama had wholly agreed with the idea, stating that students needed to dabble in all forms of culture, even art.

Sam loved art. She loved the thin, rough feeling of the canvas underneath her fingertips, the bright and colorful strokes of the paint, but most of all she loved the story behind each painting. She loved and identified with the need to express yourself through some form and, although hers was her style of clothing, she perfectly understood the calling behind art. If you were good enough, that is.

But today was simply not her day. She was irritable and cranky and tired. She'd have much preferred to spend her day inside of Casper High with the heater and a mug of hot chocolate that they'd been selling in the cafeteria since the weather turned cold. She'd loved to have been curled in her seat, taking notes on the French Revolution is history class then be out in the cold, on a bus who's heater had blinked out the moment the engine roared to life.

Danny was much to preoccupied to notice her vehement anger. He sat on the very edge of the much too small bus seat, yelling and joking with Tucker about some stupid video game, nothing that Sam took any interest in. He was dressed in his usual t-shirt and jeans, but it was covered today with a red sweater, his hands tucked warmly inside blue gloves that clashed horribly with his coat.

Tucker had switched his beret in favor of a beanie, the hat pulled down over his ears and causing him to yell because, apparently, his hearing was very muffled with the cloth covering his head. Sam had suggested that he simply wear something warmer but less constricting, to which he had bluntly stated that his beanie was "totally in in Paris."

Like Sam cared.

In fact, she was so beyond caring that she simply refused to be dragged into her friends' ridiculous conversation and had instead reverted to her iPod, ignoring the worried glances that Danny shot her way. He was just being over protective, she knew, like he always was, and nothing else.

She'd hardly had any sleep the night before and she was tired. After Clockwork had left her, she'd had an extremely hard time falling back to sleep, but she figured anyone would if they'd just been dropped the bombshell that she'd been. If that wasn't enough, images from her nightmare swirled into her thoughts and some slivers of it managed to disturb her again once she finally had fallen asleep.

She kept seeing herself, beaten and bloodied, holding the flickering lantern up to her pale, devoid-of-emotion face. Just that image alone had kept her tossing and turning for hours. And the pain—which she knew you weren't supposed to feel in a dream—had come back full force as soon as Clockwork puffed from the human realm. It was almost as if he had acted as a shield to all the horrible thoughts and feelings and as soon as he left, that shield came down.

Sam had maybe gotten an hour of sleep tops after she'd awoken from her nightmare and after Clockwork left. Her eyes drooped and she felt her mind begin to fog over from exhaustion. Unconsciously, she felt herself tip to rest her head on Danny's strong shoulder.

The Ghost Boy, shocked by her sudden movement, turned around to find his best friend leaning, asleep, on his shoulder. He suppressed a smile and wrapped an arm inconspicuously around her slim sounded, squeezing her tight into his side. She smelled like strawberry and lavender, Danny noticed subconsciously. It was a nice smell; one that seemed much too girly for her but somehow managed to work.

Sam shifted slightly, curling more into his side. Her lips puffed out slightly with each and every breath she took and her cheeks were rosy from the cold. Noticing this, Danny moved her a little more, pressing her closer to him, hoping to give her a little more warmth. It seemed to work, as she let out a contented sigh and her shoulders became relaxed.

Danny, smiling even wider than he had been moments before, turned away from her again, focusing once more on Tucker. The techno-wiz had a look in his eye, on that Danny knew but couldn't identify, when he saw the pair curled, together, in their bus seat. Or at least, that's what Danny suspected it as, although he wasn't entirely sure.

He gave Tucker a look, which was ignored, and said, "What?"

Tucker, against his own inner will, let a face slip. It was a cute one, some would say, but most wouldn't. His eyebrows were drawn together in a line, lips pursed, eyes slanted. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead thought better of it and shook his head. "Nothing." He said. "Just, nothing."

The ride went on like this the rest of the way to the Institute, except for the few times when the bus hit a pot hole and Sam stirred, or when Tucker shouted in complaint about some stupid monster in his game. By the time the Casper High Sophomores had pulled up to the large, sprawling structure that was the Amity Park Art Institute, the snow had fallen to at least half a foot and the driver was forced to reroute to park in the back parking area.

Once the bus came to a bumping stop, Mr. Lancer got to his feet, mega-phone in hand, carrying a long slip of paper. "Alright, everyone!" He bellowed. "Quiet! When I call your name, raise your hand so I know that you're here! And no goofing around. The sooner we get this done the sooner we can get of this ice box of a bus." Mr. Lancer cast one hard look at the back of the bus, more specifically at Dash Baxter, who acted like he didn't even notice. "Shirley Adams…"

Once the list was about halfway down and to the "j's", Danny gently shook Sam's shoulder, calling softly in her ear that it was time for her to get up. The Goth groaned softly, eyebrows knitting together in an attempt to shake off the last slithers of sleep. She raised her arms above her head and stretched, nearly whacking Danny in the head. Sam blushed a bright red and was quick to apologize.

Danny gave a short, loud laugh. "Don't worry. And Mr. Lancer is about to call your name. I'd answer if I was you."

"Wha—"

"Samantha Manson." Mr. Lancer called over the loud talking of the students. "Samantha Manson."

"Oh," Sam shot her hand into the air, blushing again when Mr. Lancer shot her a scathing look. "Here!"

Mr. Lancer, straining over the noise, called out the last of he names and then tucked the list into the backpack he had strewn over his shoulder. He called again for silence, which was mostly ignored, and instructed everyone to stand up and empty the bus single file. Then they would wait out by the back entrance for further instruction.

Sam, still groggy from sleep, was slow standing up. She grabbed her bag, which felt like a rock in her hands, and followed close behind Danny and Tucker as they filed off the bus. As son as she stepped foot outside, she realized that it was just as cold in the underground parking lot as it was on the bus and wrapped her slim arms around herself, hoping to conserve some form of warmth.

Danny glanced back at her, checking to make sure that she'd kept up with them, and saw her shivering violently. He stripped off his gloves and handed them to her. "Here," He said, slightly unnerved by her shaking. "Put these on. At least until we get inside."

Sam smiled gratefully and took the gloves, slipping them over her pale bare hands. She was blatantly ignoring the fact that she could smell Danny on them-even though they were simply his gloves—and the rapid tempo her heart was making because of it. Instead, she nodded her thanks, not trusting herself to speak, and stuck her now glove-covered hands in the pockets of her Eskimo jacket.

Tucker whistled low in his throat and said, "Man, look at this garage! I've never actually been inside this place, but if the parking garage is this big, imagine what the inside must look like!" He had taken out his PDA, recording everything that he was seeing, and his camera hung limp from his wrist. "I'm so going to document all of this and post it on my blog. The ladies want to know!"

Tucker had been going on and on about his new blog for weeks, claiming that he already had thousands of subscribers and they were all very hot girls. He'd told storied of the blonde named Therece from Sweden, the feisty red head called Abby from Ireland, and the ditzy bi-sexual from France who gave herself the nickname of Claire-Bear. Sam wasn't sure how much of this was actually true, but it was entertaining to hear Tucker weave such stories and it also managed to help take her mind off Danny, and so she listened with genuine interest.

Danny though, didn't find it funny at all and made a point of telling Tucker every time he brought it up. Then, when Tucker would deny it, Danny would ask him some obscure question about Therece's favorite Swedish restaurant and Claire-Bear's favorite movie theatre in France and then he'd go and research whatever Tucker told him, just to see if the place was real. Most of the time they were and Danny was still reeling from the fact.

"And I just feel so bad for Claire-Bear." Tucker was whining. "Her father just died, like, two nights ago and she's so broken up about it." His eyes were downcast and sad.

Danny took the bait like a fish out of water. "But, Tucker, I thought you said that Claire-Bear didn't have a father." There was an obvious smile in his voice.

Sam had to try her hardest to keep the self-satisfied smirk from crossing her lips. She crinkled her eyes and jabbed Tucker in his side. "And, that when she did have a father, she hated him more than anything else."

Tucker looked taken back. His face paled considerably and he quickly clicked off his PDA and tucked it back inside his jeans pocket. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak. "Well, you see—"

"Alright!" Mr. Lancer's voice rang out through the parking garage, saving Tucker from embarrassment. The techie breathed a huge sigh of relief but flinched internally when he saw the look that he was given by Sam. "There's an elevator just over this way." He pointed in that general direction. "We'll all go up in separate groups. It'll take us to the skywalk and from there we'll go to the entrance. I will tell you the rest once we get up there."

The students hurried passed the bundled up teacher, all wanting to get out of the cold as quick as possible. Mr. Lancer was left behind as the first group loaded into the elevator. Sam, Tucker, and Danny were in the far back of the line and the Goth was shuffling from foot to foot, mentally urging the elevator to move faster. They were supposed to break a snow record this week and from the wind wiping around them, it was obvious that the weatherman had been right.

It was three groups before the trio was able to get in the elevator. They were all squeezed in tight as it soared up from the ground and into the sky. It had a clear window on one side so that those riding could look out onto the snow covered ground. Sam watched in awe as they rose up. Danny was too busy shivering from cold and Tucker was lost in his PDA. It was a silent ride but finally, the elevator dinged and the doors opened into a spacious skywalk. Both sides were covered in clear glass covering so that you wouldn't fall off the bridge but could still look down if you wanted.

The group hurried across the bridge and entered through a doorway at the end of it. They were led into a marble-floored foyer with crème colored walls and iron encrusted sconces holding artificial candles lit by light bulbs in the form of flames. Couches lined one wall and chairs lined the other. The trio took the one free couch left, all bunching up together to melt away the cold.

Mr. Lancer stood for a moment, surveying the room to make sure everyone had made it up from the garage level. Once he was satisfied, he slipped off his gloves and clapped his hands to gain the room's attention. Everyone fell silent. "We'll be splitting into groups to explore the Institute," he informed the students. "Always use the buddy system. At least two people to a group. There's a cafeteria down on the bottom floor for you to get lunch." He turned to his satchel and rustled in it for a moment until he produced a semi-thick packet of paper. He waved it in front of the students for all to see. "And don't forget to have your scavenger hunt packets ready and completed by three o'clock. These are 200 points, people!"

There was a collective groan as everyone rustled inside their bags for their papers. A few cursed softly as they realized they'd forgotten theirs. Sam pulled hers out with a happy smile, glad that she'd remembered. She turned and found that Danny and Tucker both had managed to remember theirs.

As if reading her mind, Tucker scowled. "As if we could forget. You only reminded us a million times!" He stuffed the papers under his arm and slipped his PDA into his bag. "Let's just get this over with."

****DP****

"Tucker!"

"What?"

"I'm not going to do all of this for you. At least make an effort!"

The techie barked out a laugh and shook his head. "Don't hold your breath, Sam. There's much more interesting things than art. Like killing monsters."

If looks could kill, Sam's would've destroyed the whole institute. Her hands were fisted tightly against her hips and her mouth was set into a grim line. Anger poured off of her in waves. "Then if you fail, that isn't my problem!" She snapped at him, her anger levels rising.

Thoughts of last night, of Clockwork's warning, flew into her mind as soon as the words left her mouth. Her throat was suddenly thick with emotion but she didn't say anything. In three months time, all of Amity Park would be gone. And it would all be because of her. And here she was, fighting with Tucker over some stupid art project. The thought made her flinch inwardly.

"_Everyone will die, Samantha Manson, unless you do." _

The words rang throughout her thoughts. She had no idea what he had meant, but Clockwork hadn't explained. With a long look that she couldn't even begin to decipher, the ghost was gone and she had been left alone with only her thoughts for company. She had tried to call out for him—wanted him to explain—but her voice wouldn't work. Her legs refused to move her, her eyes wouldn't leave the spot on her bed where Clockwork had been sitting just moments before. She was frozen.

Suddenly overcome with emotion, Sam cleared her throat. "Excuse me," she said softly, and left the room they'd been in.

Danny watched her go, something lingering in the back of his mind. Sam's expression, the look in her face. His stomach twisted into knots and he rounded on Tucker, his eyes icy. "Tucker!" He scolded his friend who didn't even seem to be aware of what had happened. His eyes were focused on the screen in front of him. "What's your problem? Why would you snap at Sam like that?"

Tucker looked up at the sound of his voice, seeming to realize that he was being spoken to. He saw Danny with a hard look in his eyes. Swooping his gaze around the room they were in, he saw that Sam was nowhere to be seen. He stood up, brushing invisible dust from his pants and shirt. "Hey, Danny. Where did Sam go?"

The simple question was enough to bring Danny up short. He opened his mouth to speak, to yell, but all that came out was a squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Cool, man. Really great, Tucker. Don't you realize you upset her?"

Danny was a protective person by nature. He always had been, even before the accident that turned him into a half-ghost. And he had always been the most protective over Sam Manson. Ever since they'd met in kindergarten, he'd looked out for her. Whenever she was pushed around, he was there to push back. Whenever she was hurt, he was there to wipe away her tears. And he knew her better than anyone else in the whole entire world.

And that was how he had known that there was something haunting in her eyes.

"What did I say?" Tucker asked in his usual clueless fashion. He ran a hand over the back of his head, face a mask of confusion.

Danny shook his head, trying his very hardest to keep his feelings to himself. He'd go after Sam in a little while. She would want to be alone and cool off. He knew that. He held the packet of questions so hard that it crunched underneath his fingers. He yanked at the Polaroid camera around his neck and pointed to the 17th Century painting on the wall. "Let's just get this assignment over with."

****DP****

The click-clacking of her steel-toed combat boots was the only sound that Sam could hear as she made her way down the staircase leading into the 11th Century amcient art expose. Since their class assignment was strictly over 17th and 18 Century works of art, she knew that she wouldn't run into anyone unwanted.

Overall, the Art Institute wasn't that busy. Probably, Sam thought, because everyone was out last minute Christmas shopping. It had just hit December 10th and in Amity Park, that was when everyone went out. She had no doubt at all that the mall was flooded with people of all kinds pushing and shoving for that Perfect Present because it was the Only One Left. It made her kind of glad. She wasn't bug on crowds unless she felt comfortable with the type of people that she would be around.

She also liked Christmas. She loved it. Winter was her favorite time of year. Although her family didn't celebrate Christmas usually, because she had family staying with her from out of town, she'd convinced her parents to give it a try this year. They'd just put the finishing touches on the tree that previous weekend.

She heaved a heavy sigh, coming to a stop in front of a sculpture made from what appeared to be clay. It was in the shape of a crouching man. The artist had given it no face and no defining features other than a pointed noise and an aquiline jaw. The clay was a steely gray color. Entranced by the strong lines and smooth planes, Sam reached out a hand and let her fingers trail against the sculpture.

The clay was soft and cool beneath her palms. There was an emotion that she felt. Touching the clay like she was, letting her eyes trace its contours, she could almost envision what the artist had been feeling when he made it. She could picture him sitting, slaving tirelessly over a work bench in the middle of the night, struck by such a strong desire to craft that he had been unable to sleep. His family, if he had one, would have wondered what was taking so much of his attention that he couldn't even spare a single moment to spend with them.

It was a sentiment that Sam could understand. Sometimes, when she was writing, she got so lost in her words—her thoughts—that she tuned out everything else around her. An hour, maybe two, could pass before she even realized what had happened. She wouldn't hear anyone calling to her. It was just her and her words. It used to freak Danny out when they were younger, but he had long since gotten used to her sudden blank stares and loss of interest whenever something popped into her head.

She dragged her finger alone the sculpture's jaw line, tracing from his neck down to the hand that was placed over his heart. The pasting was smooth. The hand was attached to the bare chest by a sticky glue substance that she could still see residue of. Curious as to what exactly the gel was, she slid her hand along the underside of the hand. She could just barely fit her fingers in between the small space between the palm of the hand and the chest.

She ran her index finger along the palm, amazed to feel that the glue-y stuff was still slightly sticky. Just as she was getting to the fold of the palm, she felt her finger hit something. It wasn't grainy smooth like the clay but a stony type of smooth. Curious, she pressed her finger along it, wondering what could fit in such a small space. The object was large and round; she could tell from its feel.

Then, all of a sudden, she felt a sharp stinging sensation in her finger. She frowned, pulling her hand from its spot and resting it against her chest. She saw a small swell of blood pull on her index finger. Cursing, she slipped it into her mouth, hoping to stop the bleeding. She pulled it out a moment later, happy to see that all the blood was gone. In its place, was a little cut in her skin. She shrugged it off, knowing that it would be healed by the next morning.

Figuring that she'd stewed long enough, she cleared her throat and adjusted the strap of her bag so that it rested higher on her shoulder and began to make her way back to where she'd come from.

* * *

**So...THIS STORY IS OFFICIALLY OFF ITS HIATUS! I know that it's taken a while, but I've finally found time to sit and write for every story that I have yet to complete. I have tons of ideas swirling around in my head for this story. They've always been there, but now their just pushing to get out. Updates will be tons faster. **

**IMPORTANT! Just to make sure that people are still interested in this story, I would like 10 reviews before I post another chapter. I'll never ask for a specific number of reviews again, but I need to know if people are still interested. Thanks.  
**

**Next Chapter- Late Night: Sam, Danny, and Tucker return from their field trip only to discover that Skulker has broken free from the Ghost Zone.  
**


	7. Late Night

**Chapter 7: Late Night**

**Disclaimer: I do not own.**

It wasn't until sometime after five that Sam made it home. The wind outside was howling again and the Eskimo coat that she adored so much had somehow managed to rip during the field trip. Her cheeks were frozen and her nose was red by the time she pushed the front door closed. She shivered violently for a second before kicking off her shoes, scattering snow flecks all over the cherry-wood flooring.

She slipped off her coat and hung it on the by the door. She'd have to remember to tell her mom that it had ripped so that she could send it to get fixed. She unwound her scarf and peeled off her gloves before tossing them in the hall closet. She didn't bother to put them in their drawers, knowing that she'd probably need them later that day anyway.

The house was silent as she made her way from the foyer and up the stairs to her room. It was to be expected, though. She hadn't seen any cars in the driveway. Her aunt and uncle were probably out sightseeing (although there was hardly anything worth looking at in Amity Park) and she already knew that her mother had a party at the country club and her father was working late. That meant that she had the house to herself at least until late that evening, which was a relief.

As soon as she got to her room, she slammed the door behind her and collapsed on the bed. The smooth, purple satin sheets felt soft and soothing under her chilled skin. With a groan, she pulled herself up onto the pillows and grabbed the remote for the TV. While it wasn't something that Sam normally indulges in, when she was tired enough she would rest in her room, the TV blaring.

The screen made a strange whirring noise and flickered to life in a flash of blue. Punk music blared from the speakers, shocking her nearly off the bed. She changed the station quickly, having forgotten that she'd last had it blasting on the music channel. She'd turned it on to drown out the noise of her aunt and uncle arriving with her snot-nosed, holier-than-thou cousin. Just the thought that the trio of tulle (something that she secretly called them bases on their fascination with all things frilly) were staying under the same roof as her for the Christmas holidays was enough to make her stomach churn. She was glad they were out of the house right then.

It wasn't that she didn't love her family. She did. But they were so different from her and there was only so much she could take, especially after what Clockwork had revealed to her the night before. She wasn't sure that she'd have been able to handle her cousin's shrill voice or her uncle's deep timbre. She was so tired that she'd been hard pressed to handle Tucker that day at the Art Institute. The one thing keeping her from flying off the handle had been Danny.

The thought of the ghost boy made Sam sigh. He looked better today, which was good. She didn't like it when Danny was stressed. She didn't like it either when he was sad or mad or tired or anything other than happy, really. Danny rarely let his emotions get the better of him, especially now that he had his ghost powers, and when he did it usually meant that something was seriously wrong. And Sam didn't want there to be anything wrong. No, she wanted desperately for there to be everything right.

The last two Christmases hadn't been so great for the trio and she was seriously hoping that this one would be different. Aside from her family coming down to spend the month, she wanted to have as much time with Danny and Tucker as she could before everything went wrong, because she knew that it would. It always did, somehow. It wasn't always in a ghostly way, but it was always happening and it was never good.

That and she could feel this sense of foreboding. It came from somewhere deep inside of her; a place that was so deep she'd never noticed, much less bothered to look. But there it was, suddenly demanding to make itself known. If she wasn't such a realist, Sam would have thought it nothing.

With a great yawn, she flipped the station on the television. A kid's cartoon with grainy graphics popped up. Switch. A pretty newscaster with a faux-sad face. Switch. A red-haired cop with sunglasses glaring down at a body. Switch. A boy and a girl making out in such a way that shouldn't be allowed on public television. Definite switch.

After another five minutes of this, Sam flicked the TV off and tossed the remote away from her. It hit the wall and fell with a crash to the floor. If she wasn't so suddenly tired, she would have turned to see if she'd made a dent in the purple-painted wall. As it was, she merely shifted so that she was resting on her side instead of her back and folded her arm underneath her. Before she even realized what had happened, she felt her eyes slipping closed…

…only to pop back open at the shrill ringing of her phone. A heavy metal song reverberated throughout the room. Refusing to turn over and look at what she was doing, Sam fumbled around for the phone. She closed her fingers around it and brought it to her ear.

"What?" She asked gruffly, voice thick with the sleep that she'd almost achieved. She ran her free hand through her hair, feeling as it curled beneath her fingers.

There was a pause. "Are you okay?" Danny's voice was distinct and soft over the other line.

Sam could just picture him. He'd have just gotten home and taken off his winter clothing. He was probably sitting at his desk, booting up his ancient desktop, ready for gaming with Tucker. As if to confirm her thoughts, she heard the distinct squeaking of her swivel chair as he moved around the room. "Are you?" Sam shot back, angry that she'd been woken up. Not so much at Danny, per say, but at life for never giving her a moments rest.

"Did you and Tucker ever talk?" Danny asked, bypassing her question entirely. He'd known that it was rhetorical and she had never intended for him to answer it. He'd obviously woken her up. He could hear it in her voice. He felt slightly guilty, but not enough to hang up. Sam would have just groaned and shut the phone off on him if she didn't want to talk.

Sam shifted on the bed. She lifted her torso and took the covers, pulling them down. She snuggled under them, burying her head in her black spider pillow before answering. "He's an animal murdering, techno-freak," she said to let him know that she was still irritated. "But at least he apologized. Sort of. If you count puppy-dog eyes and a bunch of unconvincing whimpering an apology."

Danny chuckled. That sounded just like Tucker. It was clear that Sam was trying to be angry but wasn't really succeeding. "Aside from all that, I'm sure he meant it."

There was a disbelieving snort from Sam's end of the line; more shuffling as she twisted to rest on her stomach. "It's just like you to take his side," she said with a hint of mirth just so he knew she wasn't mad. "Are you going patrolling tonight?" She changed the subject quickly, curious and anxious to let him know that she didn't feel up to it and so she probably wouldn't join him.

"I think so," Danny said. He sounded as tired from their field trip as she felt. "But not very late. You coming? Or will it just be me and Tuck?"

"Just you and Tucker," Sam said. "I'm not really feeling up to it. If you need me though, just call." She didn't want him to think that she was shirking out on her responsibilities. It was serious business, having a half ghost for a best friend. If he needed help, she had to always be ready.

"We probably won't," Danny said and then mentally cursed. What a stupid thing to say. Lately, for some reason, he found himself getting extremely tongue-tied around his best friend. It had started up a few months ago, just out of nowhere. The summer season had hit with a bang. Amity Park had seen record breaking heat waves. The pools filled with people from all over and you were lucky to even get a spot to set your towels.

Danny had gone out the night before to scope out a spot and had flown Sam and Tucker there right before opening. They'd managed to get the most desired spot, right between the food stand and the pool. It was covered in shade from the planted palm trees and blocked off from on-lookers by a section of rocks arranged in a half circle. Danny and Tucker had forgone a t-shirt in favor of just their swim trunks. Sam, preferring to keep most of herself covered whenever possible, had donned a black droopy hat and a dark grey cover dress.

In his usual fashion, Tucker had taken off for the water as soon as he'd removed his glasses and beret. He didn't bother with sunscreen and made a bee-line for the high dive. He had burst through the waiting line and jumped into the water before Danny could even blink. Sam had scoffed at him and shook her head.

She began to strip her outer clothing before Danny even realized what was happening. Her hat was removed first, and then her cob web stylized flip-flops. Danny had been looking at her just as she lifted her arms, hands grasping the fabric of her dress. Even though he knew it was wrong, he couldn't bring himself to look away as the smooth, pale skin of her stomach flashed against the pale grey of the dress. It was flatter than he imagined, although he knew he shouldn't be surprised. She was constantly running around hunting ghosts with him and Tucker. And she'd never been heavy before. He just hadn't expected…that.

It turned out, as Sam pulled the dress over her head and off, that she was in a purple two-piece. It was the first time that Danny had seen her in such little clothing, even though he'd known her practically his whole life. It was a shock and he felt as his heart did a little flip in his chest. He swallowed thickly and didn't realize his mouth was open until she looked at him, a confused glint in her eye.

It wasn't that Danny had never realized that Sam was so good-looking. It was just that he hadn't ever really thought about it before. He hadn't had needed to. But the sight of her—still pale even though the hot summer sun beat down, hair up in a full ponytail instead of a half one, two-pieced bathing suit that showed just the right amount of skin to make any guy with eyes drool—shocked him so much that he nearly fell over in a comical display of confusion.

The sound of familiar, soft laughter brought Danny out of him memories. A quick glance in the mirror hanging just over his computer desk revealed to him that his face was scarlet. He shook his head, trying desperately to erased the inappropriate thoughts. "That didn't come out right," he said, running a hand along the back of his neck.

"I think it came out perfectly," Sam said. There was a small hint of laughter in her voice. "Always nice to know I'm needed."

"Sam…"

"Danny."

Danny sighed. "Still. I didn't mean it that way." He paused for a second. "How are things with the family?"

Sam knew that he meant the three visiting. She shrugged, knowing that he couldn't see it. Even though she knew that no one was home to hear her, she burrowed deeper into the bed and pulled the covers over her face. "Annoying. I finally get my parents to celebrate Christmas and their stipulation is to invite the most obnoxious cousin that I have. As of Aunt Gloria and Uncle Tim weren't bad enough." She groaned. "It's like they're punishing me!"

Danny chuckled at the note of whining in her voice. "They are not," he told her, although it was hard to make out between the laughs.

"Shut up, Danny."

Sam's irritation only made him laugh harder. It took a minute, but he eventually forced the chuckles into silence. He wiped at a tear underneath his eye. He hadn't realized he'd been laughing so hard. He was going to respond, but there was a loud bang from downstairs followed by his mother shouting for him. Then there was a sudden bad smell, like rotted eggs.

Danny gagged and sighed. "Gotta go, Sam." He had already stood up and was making his way to the door. The smell was stronger over there. His mother called out again, her voice shrill. "Something exploded." He snapped his phone shut before she got a chance to reply because he was pretty sure that he could see green flames devouring the couch in the living room.

"Danny!" That was his father, Jack Fenton. He appeared at the bottom of the staircase. His face was covered in green goo and his bright orange jumpsuit was dulled by soot. He was carrying a Jack o' Nine Tails and he looked completely excited. "You'll never believe it, son! We've got ourselves a ghost!"

"Not a ghost," Maddie Fenton said, coming from the kitchen. She was covered in goo and soot as well. Only, instead of looking happy, she looked miffed. She didn't carry any weapons, but her arms were full of cracked and blackened glass beakers. "That _thing_ is not a ghost! It's ectoplasmic radioactive goop!"

Hearing his mother, who was usually so much more scientific than his father, use such a word as goop, made Danny lose a bit of footing. "What are you talking about?"

Maddie pointed over to the couch. It was still on fire and had mostly been reduced to a fine green dust. Suddenly, there was a little screech of pain. Danny saw what appeared to be a small puddle of goop with legs and stubby arms hop out of the flames. It looked around the room with red eyes, its expression demonic. It saw Danny, saw his parents and their weapons, and then took off for the front door. The thing ran right through the door, burning a small hole the size of its body in the stained wood.

"We created a ghost!" Jack was practically jumping up and down. "Out of ectoplasmic residue and a few bolts of ghost energy!"

Danny didn't even know what ghost energy was. Apparently, neither did Maddie. She shot her husband a scathing look. The soot covering her cheeks made her already scary expression even scarier. "Jack, go out there and catch that thing!" She cried as she made her way to the door. She dropped the broken beakers on the carpeted floor and began to push her husband out of the house.

Danny watched as the door slammed shut behind them, although the effect was slightly less intimidating because of the large hole marring the wood. His parents' yelling gradually grew softer and softer until he couldn't hear them anymore. He glanced down into the living room. The couch had finally stopped burning but the horrible smell still filled the room and the carpet was covered in glass shards. He sighed. It was clear that no one but him would be cleaning up the mess.

Sometimes all Danny wanted was a normal family.

* * *

**Okay, so Skulker up next chapter. This was getting to be kind of long and I wanted to get it posted. Did you like the DannyxSam moment, even if it was small? I did.**

**Show me love. Review.'  
**

**Next Chapter: Attack: Skulker attacks Amity.  
**


	8. Attack

**Chapter 7: Attack**

**(I accidentally call chapter 6 chapter 7. Oops. Also, I messed up on some of the dates. Two chapters ago I said that it was the 10****th**** of December but before that I said it was November. I meant for it to be December. Sorry for the confusion.)**

**I do not own Danny Phantom.**

There were many things that Skulker was good at, but he was by far the best at hunting. And when he went hunting, he didn't go for just anything. No, the ghost, who was actually known as the best hunter in the Ghost Zone, only went after a specific breed of prey. The ever elusive, the one of a kind, the crème de la crème, the best of the best; that was what he hunted. Anyone could be a good hunter, but it took a special kind of person—a special kind of man—to hunt the rare and be successful at it as well. Skulker was just that.

That very reason was the one that found him perched against the ledge of the roof of Amity Park Art Institute. It was windy and cold that night, but as a ghost he had the luxury of feeling neither of those things. The snow had been falling when he'd first arrived, but it had since stopped. The moon was hidden behind the clouds and the only illumination in the night was the street lights. The usual yellow lights had been changed in favor of red or green ones, casting a strange glow along the ground. The streets were empty of life, everyone asleep.

It was the middle of the night and as such, the perfect time for Skulker to lurk. There was no one awake to point him out, no one out to stop him. And, if he was lucky, no Ghost Child to fight him off. Yes, while usually the prospect of a showdown with his favorite play thing would cause Skulker mirth, right then it only brought him worry and exasperation. Tonight, Skulker had his sights set on something else, something much more valuable—something that couldn't run from him.

The roof beneath his feet was clear glass. Looking down, he could see below him. He was above the Ancient Mesopotamian exhibit, not the one he wanted, but close enough. After a moment of silent contemplation, he became intangible and sunk through the roof. He kept his eyes opened so he was sure he didn't float straight through to the basement. He forced himself tangible again as soon as his booted feet touched the floor.

The room he needed was two over according to the floor plan he'd implanted into his tracking systems. He glanced down at the screen on his arm just to be sure. Yes, he was right. A little red dot blinked two rooms over. Excitement began to course through his veins. This was his favorite part of the hunt. When his prey was in sights, when there was nothing in his was, Skulker felt the pure enjoyment hit him. Having the prize was nice, but getting there was the best part.

Turning himself intangible once more, Skulker stepped forward. As he passed through the two simple walls that blocked him from his treasure, he felt the familiar pressing sensation against his front side that signified he was stepping though something that he shouldn't have been able to. Finally, what he wanted was in sight. After making sure the room was clear of guards, Skulker returned to his tangible and visible state.

The room around him was full of things, priceless artifacts from a time very long ago. He hardly noticed. The prize was right in front of him. Skulker was in front of it before he even realized that he had moved. He placed a single, gloved hand against the smooth clay object, feeling the power coursing through it. He ran a finger down it, reaffirming to himself that it was in fact real, that he had in fact acquired his objective; and all without any interference. It was nice, for a change.

Shooting the power through his palm, Skulker focused on turning the object invisible. He'd need to get it out of the building and it wouldn't do for someone to spot a couple hundred pound ancient artifact floating in mid-air. Most places it wouldn't be a problem, but in Amity Park, it would only complicate things. Only, nothing happened.

Huh.

Frowning, the ghost forced a little more energy, trying again. Still, the statue stayed visible. And that was when Skulker noticed it. The energy; it was different. Something had changed. Dropping his hand, he stepped away, eyeing the thing in front of him skeptically. He closed his eyes to focus. The ghost energy surrounding the object was still there. It was impossible to make that disappear. But it was different from when he'd felt it before.

When he'd first encountered the statue at its last place of residence, it hadn't felt like this. The energy had been more…potent and dark. Now it wasn't. He didn't understand what could have happened. He didn't know what could have caused the energy to shift so drastically and in such a short amount of time. It had only been two days since he'd last tried to connect with the ghost energy.

There was no reason Skulker could think of. Unless…But no. That was doubtful. Still, he found himself turning to the computer on his wrist. As he thought about what he needed to know, the screen changed. Pages from the internet popped up, the ones he'd used to do his research. It took some looking but there, at the bottom of the page.

_When the stone is touched and a connection is forged, the very essence of the statue changes._

It was one line and the last that was written. It would have been easy to overlook. It was the only reason that Skulker could possibly fathom. And yet, it didn't seem possible. The likelihood of a connection being made was simply too much for it to be reasonable. Maybe he was just off. Although that still didn't explain why it still wouldn't react to his powers.

"I thought I saw you break in here."

Skulker stiffed. The computer on his wrist shut off and he turned his attention from the statue. Of all the rotten luck, he had to have been spotted by the one person who had a chance—slim, but still a chance—to put a wrench into his plans.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's illegal to break and enter?" The voice continued.

"Didn't," Skulker fired back. "Anyone ever teach you that it's rude to sneak up on someone." He shook his head. "I should have known better. Welcome, Ghost Child."

Danny's eyes lit up at the mention of his nickname. "It's nice to see you too, Skulker." This was, of course, a lie. It was about four in the morning and he'd been just about to turn and head home when his ghost sense had gone off. He'd been out since midnight and had so far managed not to run into anyone. But of course that wouldn't last. He couldn't possibly go a whole night without getting into at least one fight.

Skulker stood up a little straighter. The gun on the back of his left shoulder raised itself; an automatic response when he was being threatened. "Don't meddle in things that don't concern you." He cast a look at the statue.

Following the ghost's gaze, Danny frowned. A statue? Why was Skulker trying to steal a statue? Although he supposed that it couldn't be much else because he was in an art museum. It didn't matter, though. It was still public property. "Stealing from a museum does concern me. What do you want with that statue?"

Not bothering to answer, Skulker sent a bolt of energy into his gun and it blasted out as blue lightning at Danny. The Ghost Child dodged and the energy hit the wall, cracking it and blasting off large chunks of plaster. He fired again, also missing. This time, he smashed an moldy looking face mask.

Danny floated up into the air and charged a ray of energy out of his hands, aiming for the gun on Skulker's shoulder. It connected, knocking the device off and sending it to the floor in a shower of sparks. The other ghost let out a howl of rage and came out him. "You'll pay for that!" He cried.

"Just put it on my tab," Danny jabbed as he turned himself intangible so that Skulker glided right through him. He plowed into the wall. While he was slightly dazed, Danny fired another laser at him, hitting him square in the back of his suit. Skulker growled in rage and pain. Again, Danny went forward, hitting him hard on the face with his fist.

Skulker leaped away from Danny's second fist. His vision was turning hazy. He hated being hit with the Ghost Child's laser. It stung worse than most. He shot a look at the statue. It was still where it had been just minutes before. None of the debris had fallen on it, which was good, although he doubt it would have been damaged. He turned back to Danny and shot at him with his wrist gun. The blue bolt hit the other ghost in the chest.

Danny gasped from the shock and pain of being hit. He staggered and slammed into the wall. It dazed him slightly but not nearly enough to matter. His ghost sensed prevented him from becoming seriously hurt. He'd have to have hit the wall much harder for it to do any major damage. He peeled himself from the dry wall slowly. His eyes narrowed. Suddenly, he could hear the faint sound of sirens outside. Great, security must have called the cops. He'd been so into the fight he'd forgotten there would even be guards.

"Damn," he muttered. He had to end this soon. He pulled the Fenton Thermos from where he'd stashed it in his back pocket.

While Danny was smashed into the wall, Skulker turned and picked his way past the debris littering the floor. He placed both arms around the statue. If he couldn't turn it invisible or intangible then he'd need to lift it and fly out of there before Danny regained his bearings. He was so lost in trying to lift the few hundred pounds that he barely noticed the cold jet hit him in the back until he felt the familiar sucking motion. A cry ripped from his lips as he was sucked into the Thermos.

As soon as Skulker disappeared, Danny put the cap on the Thermos and turned intangible. With little effort, he floated up and through the glass ceiling just as the first licks of a flashlight began to shine in the room. He held the Thermos against his chest as he flew up and away from the Amity Park Art Institute. Down below, he watched as a gaggle of police cars flew into the parking lot, lights and sirens blazing.

* * *

**Be honest, how was the fight scene? **

**I haven't written very many. I hoped that this one was up to par. They'll get better, but I just sort of wanted to test the waters, which is one reason this chapter is so short. Also, just FYI, this chapter takes place the same night as the last chapter, just later in the evening. No Tucker. Or Sam. And not much Danny. But I love Skulker lots and I plan on using his character a lot throughout this story. I enjoyed the trip into his mind.  
**

** Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter. I read and cherished every one of them.  
**

**Show me reviews. :)  
**

**Next chapter: Present- An announcement at school has Sam contemplating her relationship with Danny. Elsewhere, Tucker helps Danny figure out what Skulker was trying to steal.  
**


	9. Present

**Chapter 8: Present**

**I do not own Danny Phantom.**

**(Be warned, this is a long one.)**

Sam woke up the next morning not with her alarm, but to the soft thud of someone landing on the bed beside her.

Sam had always been a light sleeper ever since she was little, but lately it had gotten even worse. The slightest bump or sigh and she'd wake up. Having Danny for a best friend kept her pretty busy most nights, and she always had to be up and ready at a moment's notice. It wasn't uncommon for her to wake in the middle of the night and find Danny resting against her bed, wounded from some ghost fight and needing her to help him bandage up because he couldn't possibly go home covered in dried blood and bruises. More recently, she'd wake up and find other ghosts mulling around her room. Clockwork, for one, and then the Box Ghost had bothered her the week before that. She'd even had the occasional visit from Wolf, Danny's ghost dog.

It was slightly shocking then, when she rolled over and found not a ghost, but her cousin sitting on top of the comforter, knees brought to her chest, looking deep in thought. A sliver of gray-ish light poured through the slight peak in the window curtains and spilled across the bed. It caught the girl's bleached blonde hair and pretty face, making both look pale and washed out in the early morning sun. She was frowning and glancing down at her painted toes.

Pushing herself into a sitting position, Sam glanced at the clock. Blood red numbers informed her that it was only five and she didn't need to be up for another hour and a half. As tired as she was though, curiosity brimmed it the surface of her half-sleeping mind. She rubbed her eyes and pushed a chunk of hair from her eyes. She never wore her hair up when she slept, hating the feeling of a ponytail poking into the back of her skull.

"Jenni?" She asked quietly, staring strangely at the girl perched beside her on the bed. What could her cousin possibly want at five in the morning? She was looking forlornly down and picking at the pink polish on her toes.

At the sound of her name, the girl looked up. Her hazel eyes were watery. "I saw someone in my room."

Whatever Sam had been expecting her to say, it wasn't that. Sitting up a little straighter, she leaned over and flicked on the lamp resting on her bedside table so that she could better see her cousin's face. "What?"

"I saw someone in my room," the girl repeated, a slight tremor in her voice. She curled in on herself more.

Sam said again, "What?"

Frowning, Jenni's eyes turned from teary and frightful to angry. "A person. A man. In my room." She spoke in short, clipped sentences. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands. Sam saw a flash of read as she drew blood.

"Who?"

"I don't know!"

Sam gave her cousin a skeptical look. Trying to be discrete, she leaned forward slightly and sniffed. There was no smell of alcohol on Jenni, just the poignant bubblegum flavor that followed her wherever she went. Still, that didn't mean anything.

Seeming to catch on to what she was doing, Jenni snapped away from Sam, pointing an accusing finger at her. "I am _not _drunk!" She sneered harshly, struggling to keep her voice low enough so that her parents wouldn't hear in the room over. For being so large, the walls in the Manson household were paper-thin. She stood abruptly and began to pace, padding across the room from side to side, nails at her mouth.

"Okay," Sam said slowly and cautiously. She looked at her cousin and then at the black iPhone setting on her desk across the room. She contemplated brushing passed the other girl and calling her parents. "What did it look like?"

"He," Jenni said immediately and with confidence. The smug tone that Sam was so used to began to creep back into her voice. She stood just a little straighter and her pacing slowed slightly. "It was a man. And he was black."

Sam raised a brow.

"Not like that," Jenni hissed. "I mean he was like a black shadow. Like a black figure."

"So how do you know it was a man?" Sam asked. She eyed her cousin strangely and then looked back at the clock. God, she still had an hour left to sleep. She picked at the frayed ends of her bed sheet feeling back for her cousin and annoyed at the same time. With the way she was pacing, the faraway look in her eyes, the way her hands shook, and how she kept pacing, Sam was nearly positive that Jenni was high on something. It may not have been alcohol, but there were other things.

The fact that she hadn't yet been home when Sam drifted off to sleep around one that morning didn't help her case. It was one of the reasons that Sam had protested so violently to having Jenni stay with them. Her aunt and uncle were annoying, but she could put up with them. Jenni, on the other hand, tended to come home late into the night and reeking of alcohol. She'd fumble around for a while until she could find which room was hers and then she'd crash and not wake up until way into the afternoon. The few occasions that Sam had stayed with them, it had been the same. Her aunt and uncle were just too blind or in too much denial to see it.

And there had been once, about a year ago, when she'd been woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of the phone ringing from her parent's room. Her mother had answered it and, because the walls were so thin, she'd heard everything. It was her Aunt Gloria, apparently, and it seemed that Jenni had just turned up at their house, drunk and clearly high off of something, wailing about how someone was chasing her. She didn't know what to do. And, while Pamela Manson wasn't very good at giving advice, she was a very good listener. Sam had sat up, leaning against the wall, hanging on every one of her mother's tear-filled words. After a while, the talking ended. Sam feigned sleep when Pamela came in to check on her. She heard a sob, but she didn't sit up.

She'd hated her cousin ever since then.

While it was one thing to have the occasional drink, it was another to make it happen so regularly that your parents weren't sleeping and had to call hers in the middle of the night. It was also another to turn up running from someone who wasn't even there. While Sam wasn't on very good terms with her parents and often went out of her way to make their lives hard, she never wanted to make them miserable. As much as they pushed her in a direction that she didn't want to go, they were only doing so because they felt that it was the best for her. And as far as she knew, they'd never been so worried about her that they'd cried. Because, as much as they got on each other's nerves, they trusted Sam and she trusted them. The fact that someone like Jenni could make her mom cry made her so angry that she didn't even know what to do with herself.

Jenni glared at Sam. She began to pick at her fingernails, shuffling her feet along the dark carpeting. "Because the figure was too masculine to be a woman. It didn't have any curves." She ran her hands along her own ample hips to demonstrate.

Sam ran a hand through her hair. Her fingers caught in tangles. She needed a shower. She didn't have time for this. "Jenni, are you sure you weren't dreaming?" She asked hesitantly, not wanting her cousin to explode on her and wake up everyone in the house.

"I was awake," Jenni said matter-of-factly. "I was watching TV."

"Were you watching a scary movie?"

Jenni looked at Sam like she'd grown an extra head. "What does it matter what I was watching?"

Glancing again at the clock, Sam knew that she needed to finish this up soon. She couldn't afford to be late again. She'd already been tardy four times that month, and it was only the tenth. Still, she couldn't possibly tell her cousin that. She knew from experience that Jenni's time was more important that hers; or so she liked to think. "Were you?" She asked, not bothering to answer the question.

Jenni made a face. Left over make-up from the day before made her eyes look gray and bruised. "I was watching MTV."

So that would be a negatory. Inwardly, Sam shuddered. She'd never seen the draw that people had for that channel. "I have to get ready for school."

Jenni's perfect lips fell open in something akin to shock. Her eyes widened marginally. She came to a halt in the middle of the room and fisted her hands on her hips. "Are you blowing me off?" She wanted to know. "I just told you that someone was in my room and you're not even listening."

"I have school in a few hours," Sam explained as calmly as possible. She pushed the covered from her form and stood up. She'd only worn an extra-large t-shirt to bed and she felt exposed standing in only that if front of Jenni. But Jenni was more a woman of action than words. Sam knew that the only way to get her to leave would be to start getting ready while she was still there. She went over to her dresser and began pulling out clothing. She forwent her usual skirt and snug shirt in exchange for a sweater and some tight black jeans. The weather had called for more cold weather and a strong wind that day.

She heard rather than saw Jenni let out a breath of disgust and stomp from the room. She closed Sam's door rather loudly, shaking the walls and she banged down the hall. A few seconds later, she heard another door slam and knew that Jenni had returned to her room. "Bitch," she said quietly to herself as she closed the drawer of her dresser and went over to the bathroom.

****DP****

The final bell was ringing loudly just as Danny slid into homeroom. He got a few weird looks from classmates, but ignored them as he rushed over to his desk. He was shaking and wet, having accidentally fallen into a pile of snow on the way to school. Turning intangible had dried his skin and hair, but his shirt and pants were still soaked. He slid into his seat with seconds to spare and dumped his books on the desk. Grabbing the hem of his shirt, he began to squeeze the water out. It splattered along the floor, but he didn't care very much at the moment. He only thought of getting dry.

"Dude," Tucker whistled low. "What happened to you?"

"I got wet," was all Danny said as he scowled at the boy sitting across from him. He wrung his shirt out once more before giving up. He shivered in the cold of the room and he could barely keep his eyes opened. He'd hardly slept at all the night before. After depositing Skulker back in the Ghost Zone, he'd spent the next hour explaining to Jazz—who'd caught him sneaking out in ghost form—what had happened. By the time he managed to get to bed, he only had an hour left to sleep.

"Uh-huh," Tucker said skeptically. He gave his friend a weird look but otherwise chose not to dwell on it. Despite being half-ghost, Danny was pretty clumsy. He'd probably fallen on the way to school or something.

Knowing that Tucker wanted a little bit more of an explanation, Danny sighed. "I didn't get much sleep last night," he supplied. "Skulker attacked the Art Institute."

Tucker frowned. He glanced up quickly at the clock hanging on the upper wall. Class had technically started, but Mr. Harvill was always late. They had another ten minutes at least. "What?" He asked, moving his desk a little closer to Danny's. "What was he doing there?"

"See, that's what I'm trying to figure out." Danny threw his hands up in the air and brought them back down to rub over his face. He could barely keep his eyes open. He was used to late nights, but he hadn't been sleeping very well lately anyway; not after the strange dream he'd had a few nights ago and then his talk with Clockwork. Speaking of, he should probably tell Sam and Tucker about that. "I caught him in the Ancient Mesopotamian Arts section."

For a moment, Tucker looked deep in thought. But out of every possible reason, he couldn't seem to think of a good one as to why Skulker would be lurking around a museum; much less an art museum. Unless, of course, he was trying to take something. "Did you see what he was trying to steal?"

"How do you know he was trying to steal something?"

Tucker gave Danny a look. He reached a hand up ender his beret and scratched his head. "Because why else would Skulker be at the Art Institute in the middle of the night?"

"There's nothing there for him to steal," Danny said, shaking his head. He leaned back in his chair, trying to find a more comfortable position. It was taking everything in his for him not to fall asleep right then and there.

Tucker asked, "How do you know? Have you looked at their registry?"

Danny shook his head. "Well, no."

Something bright sparkled in Tucker's eyes. He pulled his PDA from his pocket and began to tap something into it. "I'll get you the list after free period," he said, never having lifted his eyes from the device in his hands. "If I can get into the computer lab and sink up to their systems, I should be able to find the list on their website without much trouble."

Danny nodded, wondering why he hadn't thought of that. "I just don't see how there could be anything of value to Skulker. In a _human_ museum. He hunts _ghost_ objects."

"There could be something like that in the institute," Tucker shrugged. "You never know. I'll print off the list for you and note any possibles." He tapped one more thing into his PDA and slipped it back into his pocket. "We can get together tonight and go over it or something."

"Yeah, sounds good."

Not even a second later, the door opened and Mr. Harvill came in. He was a thin man with no muscle mass at all who looked to be in his late thirties. He had a mop of black hair that seemed bigger than his head and small hands that always shook when he wrote on the board. He shut the door behind him and went over to his desk, pulling the satchel from his side and setting it on his desk. It popped open suddenly, spilling papers and pens on the floor. A few kids in the back snickered. Flushing, Mr. Harvill hurried to pick everything up. He gathered it all in thin arms and dumped it on his desk. Because he was so clumsy, it took a few good minutes.

Tucker sent Danny a funny look, trying to hold in his laughter. Danny didn't think it was very funny, but didn't make a move to say so. He was staring intently at the papers Mr. Harvill had spilled. Or, more specifically, one paper. He couldn't really make out what it said, but he could have sworn that he saw the stapled and twisting 'AI' that made up the Art Institute's logo. Before he could be sure, though, Mr. Harvill had gathered up the papers and stuffed them back into his bag.

"Sorry, sorry," he said softly to the class, although it was hard to hear him over the noise. He turned to the board and began to write down that day's date. "Uh…um…today we'll start in the history of the American Revolution. It is a little known fact that…"

****DP****

Having Mrs. Miller for first period wasn't all that bad. In fact, she was one of Sam's favorite teachers. She'd always had an affinity for the science classes and Biology was no different. There was just something about the way that Mrs. Miller taught it. She was probably the newest teacher to grace the halls of Casper High with her presence. She'd only been teaching at the school for that semester. It was her first year and as such, the students were still fascinated with her. She was pretty, Sam supposed, in that blond and tan kind of way.

She was also a very good teacher. She alternated between notes, hands-on-experiments, and movies. Very rarely did she assign a paper and she never gave busy work. Having always been a very hands-on kind of person, Sam excelled in the experiments they performed. The only downside was that they couldn't pick their partner. It was chosen randomly by pulling sticks with their names on them from a cup. Having already had a terrible morning because of her cousin, she was dismayed to learn that she'd been paired with none other than Paulina Sanchez.

It wasn't really that she didn't like the girl. Yes, she was shallow—very much so. She also wasn't the smartest tool in the shed. And she was very mean to those that she deemed below her. But when she wasn't talking about fashion or boys, she didn't really rub Sam the wrong way. The only thing that Sam found adverse about her that day was the low cut top she wore and the jeans that were so snug the appeared to be painted on her body. Her hair was up in a high ponytail and she had her make-up on just a little bit more heavy that Sam liked.

She got to the lab station they'd been assigned first. Ten small bottles were spread out in a circle on a towel. Each was filled with some chemical that she couldn't remember the name of. There was a larger, clear bottle that was off to the side, labeled _Contagion_. Sam picked it up, twisting it between her fingers. She set it back down just as Paulina sauntered up to her.

The girl placed perfectly manicured hands on the lab table and faced Sam. She raised a brow. "Do you know what we're supposed to be doing?"

Glancing at the eleven bottles and then at Paulina, Sam frowned. She should have known how this was going to go. Bypassing the bored looking cheerleader, she grabbed the larger bottle and twisted the top off. She took a small dropper out of the drawer on her right and dipped it in the solution. Using the suction, she pulled some of the liquid into the dropper. Once she'd done that, she set it aside and pulled the lid off the first of the smaller containers.

From the front of the room, Mrs. Miller spoke up, her voice raised slightly to be heard over the noise. "Once you've put three drops of the contagion chemical into the smaller bottle, remember to twist it up and down to see the results. Whatever you do, do _not_ shake it."

The information went in one ear and out the other. Sam, having realized pretty early on that Paulina didn't intend on helping her, scanned the paper they'd been given in hopes of understanding the instructions more thoroughly. They were fairly simple, she realized, if you'd been paying attention during the lesson the day before. The principal was also simple. The purpose of the experiment was to determine how contagions were spread from person to person and what sort of biological factors effected its survival. Each of the smaller bottles contained a different type of chemical found in the human body.

Sam was about halfway through when she heard it. She'd filled up five of the smaller bottles and only three had changed color so far. Paulina had been ignoring her and the assignment, but that was to be expected. She was leaning over to the other work station, where her friend was working. Sasha Williams was new that year. She'd come in about a month ago and had instantly clicked with Paulina and the other A-Listers. She was pretty, Sam supposed, but way too thin. She had barely any curved and had no chest what-so-ever. But she was also exceptionally pretty with wavy blond hair that fell down passed her shoulders and large green eyes that made her look innocent.

Sam hadn't ever really talked to her before. She'd passed her in the halls and the other girl had always been holed up in some corner talking with either Dash or Kwan or some other guy on the football team. She seemed nice enough. She didn't wear very much make-up. Instead, she had a sort of natural beauty that shined better without it.

It didn't really matter what they were talking about. At least, not until Sam heard it.

"Do you know that Danny Fenton kid? Is he seeing anyone?"

* * *

**And...Done! I know that this isn't the longest chapter I've written, but it was pretty long. A lot of things happened here. We finally got to meet Sam's cousin! Yay! Was she what you thought? There's a point to her in the story. **

**What do you think about Sasha Williams? Just a brief appearance at the very end of the chapter, but she will come back! I can see her causing a few problems. This story is action but I want to include some teenage drama as well. Also, I need your opinion. This story is going to be long. Like, really long. It'll take a while to get to the major battles because this story has a lot of sub-plots that all sort of connect around Danny, Sam, and Tucker. So, should I do it all at once, or put the last half in a sequel? Let me know!  
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**Thanks so much for the reviews. Please let me know what you think.  
**

**Next Chapter: Listings-Tucker examines the museum inventory list. Also, Danny debates on telling Sam about his nightmares.  
**


	10. Lists

**Chapter 9: Lists**

**(Some DxS development in this chapter. Enjoy.)**

**I do not own Danny Phantom.**

The computer lab was empty of everyone but Tucker. The voices of students from down the hall echoed throughout the room. Mr. Lancer could be heard, scolding a group of teens about running in the hall. There was some laughter. A few seconds later the bell rang, signaling the end of the break and the start of the next period. Shoes squeaked against the floor as straggling students struggled to make it to their classes.

Finally, there was silence. Breathing a sigh of relief, Tucker went over to a desk in the back. There was no teacher on duty in the computer lab—it was mostly just a 'come as you please' thing—but he still wanted to be safe just in case someone came into the room and decided to peak over his shoulder and see what he was doing.

It wasn't that it was really illegal. Yeah, he probably shouldn't have been hacking into the museums secure files, but it wasn't like he was breaching the Pentagon or anything. It was just the Amity Park Art Institute—not really a national security risk. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. He could still get in trouble and between Danny's ghost powers and Sam's parental rebellion; he wasn't winning any 'best son' awards anyway.

It was fairly easy to bypass the museum's security system. A few lines of code, a cracked password, and a firewall breach were all it took for Tucker to get in. He didn't spend much time poking around. He went straight to the inventory list. Not bothering to give it a major look over, he hit the print button and backed out of the site, erasing all evidence that he'd ever been there. He erased the recent history on the computer as well, just to be safe.

With a beep, the printer spit out a total of ten pages. Tucker grabbed them and stuffed them into the bag at his side. He left the room quickly, having gotten what he came for. He was down the main hall and out the front doors of the school before he let himself look at his watch. Free period was over in about another thirty minutes, so he had some time to kill. Shrugging off his backpack, he went over to one of the outdoor benches and plopped down on it.

It was cold outside, snow littering the ground the same way that it had been for the past month. His jacket was light but Tucker had always loved the cold. He hated being hot. It was one reason he loved the north so much. Expect for the occasional strange weather, the summers in Amity were usually fairly short and winters very long. It was just the way he liked it. He wouldn't mind sitting outside until his free period was over. Lunch was next and he had news for Danny. He slipped on his pair of gloves and shuffled through the papers. Simply glancing through them, he didn't find anything of value. Maybe he'd figure something else out when he met up with Danny and Sam at lunch and all of them were looking at it.

For a museum in such a small town, there were an awful lot of exhibits. Each page had a list and each list was arranged beneath a header or what department it was showing under. A quick look-through told him that there were at least twenty different exhibits. Honestly, Tucker didn't even know that anyone in town even went to the museum. He only had once as a child and that was on another field trip with his elementary school class.

Either way, it was fairly large. It would take some time for them to actually look and inspect all the items and do research on them. He figured that they could separate it into three groups. He'd take some and Sam and Danny could split the rest. Because there was nothing better to do, he began to sort the papers.

***D&P***

The bell could not possibly ring fast enough for Sam Manson.

She was grabbing her things and stuffing papers into her backpack ten minutes before the class was supposed to end. Her head was pounding and her throat was dry in that strange way it got right before she was sick. She wrung her hands together nervously and shifted from foot to foot, humming the lyrics to the new Avenged Sevenfold album in her head; anything to distract her from the conversation going on three feet away. It was hard to drown out, but she managed pretty successfully.

She booked it out of the classroom as soon as the clanging echoed throughout the halls. She raced to the hallway. Lunch was next and she was dying to get away, be near people that she actually knew and trusted. Her head was swimming with a thousand and one thoughts. Everything that had happened to her that morning seemed to fall away and vanish until all she could think about was Sasha Williams and her apparent fascination with Sam's best friend.

The halls crawled with students and the slamming of lockers filled her senses. She felt her stomach flip flop as she smacked into a guy. He turned and glared and she winced and mumbled a quick apology before scampering off. While normally she might have stayed and said something, she couldn't seem to get a clear grasp on her thoughts at the moment.

The whole walk to her locker was a blur. Without thinking, she twisted the combination into the lock and pulled opened the metal door. It squeaked slightly, as all the old lockers did at Casper High. She stuffed her books inside and grabbed the few dollars that she kept hidden in her pencil box before closing the door. She stuffed the money in her hip pocket and stepped away, headed for the lunch room.

By the time she got there, it was packed. The line for the food stand was absolutely horrendous and every table that she could see had been taken. The windows were frosty and the door leading out to the outdoor eating area was closed and locked. No one wanted to go out and eat when the ground was covered in a foot of snow. Well, no one sane. And because no one wanted to sit outside, there were hardly enough tables for everyone.

After a moment of contemplation, Sam decided that she wasn't hungry enough to wait in that line. Lunch would be over by the time she got there. Instead, she scanned the room. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Danny and Tucker in a table by the corner. The sight of her dark-haired best friend made her mouth suddenly dry and her heart rock around in her chest. Sasha's words floated through her mind but she shook her head roughly to fight them out. Squaring her shoulders, she went over.

"Hey guys," she said, sliding her backpack from her shoulders and dropping it onto the chair beside the one she took. Both looked up to see her and both had lunches; Danny, a packed sandwich from his mom, and Tucker, a plate of meat from the cafeteria. She licked her lips and cleared her throat. Thirsty all of a sudden, she grabbed Danny's drink and took a mouthful.

Gaping at her, Danny reached out a hand and took it back from her. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped short when he saw a look in her eyes. Having known Sam most of his life, he was very skilled at reading her. Like, whenever she was angry, her right eyebrow would twitch. Never her left. And when she was curious, she chewed at her bottom lip. Her nose scrunched up whenever she was confused. And her face lit up when she was happy. Right then, her right eyebrow was twitching.

He wasn't sure if it was anything he'd done, but he didn't really want to press her to talk. If she wanted to, she would. Sam was very opinionated. She never shied away from a challenge and was always willing to speak her mind. When she was ready, she'd find him. And if she didn't want to tell him, he'd never know.

Tucker, oblivious to the strange tension around him—as he often was—cleared his throat. He reached down for his satchel and pulled out the stack of papers. He divided them into three sections and handed a small pile to both Sam and Danny, keeping one for himself. "This is the list of stuff I found online. I glanced through and it doesn't look like much, but it'll be quicker if we go through it in groups."

Sam picked up her stack. It was only four pages. She had the bigger pile by a single page. She could tell as both Danny and Tucker spread out their papers. She didn't mind. She'd always been a fast reader and she was great at remembering what she'd seen. She glanced at the first page. Everything was listed by exhibit, which made things slightly easier.

With a sigh, she got started.

****DP****

"Nothing."

Danny was running his hands through his hair in frustration. Lunch period had ended ten minutes ago but no one had left their seats, each of them still poring over their papers. "This is useless. There's nothing here." He groaned and leaned back in the chair, moving so that he was balancing himself on the back two legs.

Across from him, Tucker looked up. He was frowning. "Nothing here, either."

It was true. His list had been filled with nothing but old paintings he'd never heard of and stick figures that had apparently come from the Ancient Aztecs and were used to take away bad dreams. Although some of the things were strange and stood out, there was nothing he could see that Skulker would take interest in. Skulker hunted ghost artifacts, not human ones.

Danny hadn't fared much better. His list was all about ancient tools. As if anyone cared what some old people had used to make ever older buildings and objects. It was frustrating. His eyes were stinging and he'd developed quite the headache. He'd hardly slept the night before thanks to Skulker and now he was losing the whole day because of the stupid ghost as well. It just wasn't fair.

Glancing over at Sam to see how she was doing, he saw she was staring intently at a paper in her hands, her eyes flickering up and down as she read. Occasionally she'd shake her head or frown, but she did nothing else of significance. She was biting the inside of her cheek, her eyes glazed over as she took in the information. She still wasn't finished. Of course, his best friend had always been of an analytical mind. She was very good at taking something and looking at it logically. If any of them were going to find something, it would be her.

He watched her intently, noticing the way her eyes squinted in concentration as she crossed and uncrossed her legs. She shifted on the seat, tapping a finger against the hard metal of the lunch table. It was strange, he thought, the way she was focusing. He knew that it shouldn't have surprised him. She was his best friend, after all. But Danny had always been astounded by the amount of faith she put in him, especially since his accident.

Before everything had happened, she'd been very studious. She always had straight A's; never missed a class. Just the thought of skipping school used to make her skin crawl. She'd always been rebellious, but never when it came to her school work. That was always the most important thing on her mind. Sure, she'd cared about her friends and would do anything for them. But she would never have willingly skipped a class or activity for them. And now…now she was hardly ever in class and her grades were slipping and her GPA had dropped from a 4.0 to a 1.6. He knew because she'd told him one night in a fit of tears when she'd realized her parents would have to go to the school for a conference.

If it had been a year ago, Sam would have punched him for even thinking of not going to class. It was strange that that had changed. If it had been a year ago, she wouldn't be missing her Geology course to sit out and help him and Tucker, no matter what it had been.

Tucker himself had never been much of a studious child. He wasn't a bad student, but his grades had never been the best anyway. He hadn't had to sacrifice much to help Danny when everything had gone to shit. Neither had Danny; not involving school anyway. He hadn't really cared about grades before the accident and he cared even less now. Even if he didn't manage to graduate with great grades, he wouldn't be able to leave Amity. There was too much danger now, too much to go wrong.

Of course, if Clockwork was right, there might not even be an Amity in a few months.

That sobering thought brought Danny back to the process at hand. Why was he so curious about what Skulker was stealing when he should be focusing on the fact that the very world as he knew it was ending? He supposed it was because that was something normal. He needed to think of something casual, a normal occurrence. Because he couldn't think about Clockwork's premonition, or his dream or any of that.

Maybe Clockwork was wrong.

Of course, that thought fled his mind as soon as it was there. Clockwork couldn't be wrong. He knew everything. But Danny hoped; he hoped more than he ever had before.

Because if Clockwork was right, then Sam would be dead in three months.

**So…sorry for the wait! For real. College. Ugh. Never go. I'm totally kidding. It's actually a lot of fun. But, don't worry, I'm officially back! My updates will be faster again, especially now that all my classes are winding down. I'm sorry about the wait. I really am.**

**I hope everyone is still reading. **

**So, what did you all think of this chapter? I personally liked it a lot. It's hard writing about Tucker sometimes. I hope I got his character right. :) **

**Thank you so much for the reviews! I hope you guys are still interested and review more! I love you all!**

**Preview: Chapter Ten—Time: Clockwork has a surprising revelation about Sam. Elsewhere, Danny and Tucker continue to investigate what Skulker may have wanted to steal and Sam tries in vain to ignore Sasha Williams.**


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